Harry Potter and the Pranking of the Multiverse
by ZebJeb
Summary: Harry Potter has achieved immense power, a large bit of craziness, and a desire to seek amusement where he can. This will be a series of stories of him traversing the multiverse solving problems through ways that amuse him. Various crossovers planned.
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

AUTHOR NOTE – This collection of stories is inspired by the Harry Potter Lone Traveler stories by dunuelos and originated by The Professional. If you haven't read them, do yourself a favor and check them out. My universe is intended to be distinct from the Lone Traveler universe, but the inspiration is likely evident to anyone familiar with the Lone Traveler.

AUTHOR NOTE 2 - Updated chapter to add author note to bottom of chapter.

Harry Potter was bored. To be clear, this was not an every day sort of bored where one is simply waiting for the completion of the last hour of an uneventful workday to pass. This was more like the sort of boredom one would achieve while living on a planet devoid of sentient life for a full decade (mainly because that is exactly how long he had ben living on a planet devoid of sentient life). Luckily for Harry, this state was about to come to an end, but as he did not know that he instead whiled away the time thinking of how he got here.

While there were many odd things about his life, even for a wizard, he knew that the real turning point in his life had occurred while he was dead. He had just willingly sacrificed his life for the people of the magical world, taking on a killing curse straight from Tommy-mort himself, and had found himself standing in a white void. He also hadn't been wearing clothes, which at the time seemed embarrassing, but now seemed reasonable since he also wasn't technically wearing a body either. After scaring up some pretend clothes to cover his pretend body, he then noticed a crying coming from under a pretend bench. Looking under the pretend bench he saw an extraordinarily ugly baby (which made him decide that he wasn't pretending, because he didn't like thinking he could pretend such an ugly baby). As he reached for the baby of extreme unattractiveness, his old Headmaster appeared from the white void to tell him that the baby could not be helped.

It was at this point in his recollection that he suspected that he had gone off the planned script. In a moment of pure unthinking rebellion (also feeling a bit slap happy from the killing curse/naked void combo), Harry had decided that he would help the baby. Not just help the baby, he would claim it as his own. Before Dumble-mort (he really needed to one day see about properly remembering the names of the old man and snake dude, after forgetting them through repeated mockery) could react, Harry had grabbed the slimy infant and said "No, he's mine to keep!". Beardy-dore had time to form a shocked look on his face, and then Harry's naked white void exploded in pain.

It had felt as if his body had just suddenly filled like a balloon, overfilled, popped, reformed as a larger balloon, overfilled, popped, and repeated for a countless number of times until he felt like an infinitely sized balloon. In short, it would be fair to say that Harry had not cared for the experience.

Once the pain ended, he finally was able to focus again on his void and was pleased to see it was a vast array of pulsing neon colors. He looked over to Some Old Smores (no, that definitely probably maybe wasn't the correct name) and saw the old man was just gaping with his mouth hanging wide open. Figuring that the bearded one wouldn't be talking for a while, Harry decided that it was about time to move on from the pretty void. As soon as the decision was made, he immediately woke up in the middle of the forest he had died in. All around him, he was surrounded by bodies of Breath Cheaters (seriously, he needed to start working on remembering the right names), and in the center of them all was Harry's mortal enemy lying on the ground. Instinctively sensing his surroundings with his magic, he knew for a fact that his adversary's soul (and the minions' souls) had been sent on to the afterlife. The war was over. At long last, he had finally defeated He-Whose-Name-Can't-Be-Remembered!

As he sat in the clearing, the remaining creatures and unmarked enemies rushed him to seek their vengeance. Harry relaxed in a just conjured massage chair, watching the onslaught of certain death. With a wiggle of his finger, the onslaught was forcefully apparated to the molten core of the Earth. With another wiggle of his finger, the chair started its shiatsu massage cycle. Harry then took a nap.

* * *

Of course, all good things must come to an end. A few hours later, Hermione had managed to wake him up from his nap. A few days later she had managed to get him out of his massage chair. He managed to stay in his chair as he had explained to her (and later others) what had happened to him, Folding-mart, and his followers. Once people accepted that the war was over, they began to move on. As Hermione had explained, part of moving on involved giving Harry an Order of Merlin, and she would not allow him to attend the ceremony while receiving a deep tissue massage from his chair. So, Harry was parted from his chair and given a shiny medal, which Harry then charmed to give him a neck massage.

Over the coming months, many researchers, scholars, and curious people came to talk with Harry to understand what had happened. One thing that was perfectly clear was that Harry now seemed to have a limitless supply of magic and an ability to perform anything he wished. Frustratingly, it was also discovered that Harry could not even remotely explain how he did any of it. Even more frustratingly, it seemed like Harry had also lost his drive to do anything productive if he didn't find it amusing (although the Weasley family appreciated it, as it kept George cheerful and felt as if Fred's spirit lived on in Harry). Eventually people stopped pestering him and accepted Harry as being an anomaly and decided that Harry's core had probably exploded while dead and was able to reform without limits because he was dead, and that his case could probably only be recreated by being dead and able to return to life. The only person left examining him was Hermione.

Harry figured Hermione's examinations were another primary cause for where he was now. Hermione kept coming up with ideas for limits to Harry's powers, and kept being shown the limit did not exist. In a fit of irritation, she dared him to fly to Mars and back as quickly as possible. She didn't expect him to really try, though she should have. She had just enough time to see the gleam in Harry's eyes and the look of concentration on his face before she realized her mistake. Before she could say no, Harry had mounted his broom and then was gone. She would never know what happened to him until she passed away years later, and at that time she would wish that she had warned him about moving near the speed of light.

* * *

A short time later (from Harry's point of view), a smug Harry arrived back at Hermione's house.

"You lose again, Hermione! From here to Mars and back, on a broom! Ha!" Harry shouted as he made his way into Hermione's house. As he walked into the house, he realized that there seemed to be something wrong with the house. Looking around, he noticed the kitchen table seemed to be missing, the mantle was no where to be seen, and the house was a skyrise made of unfamiliar metals. Also, there was the panicky family shouting at him and pointing what looked like a futuristic gun at him. Finally, there was the high-powered laser exiting the gun and tying to drill through his constant shields. All of that combined to make Harry suspect that this was not Hermione's house.

Quickly inventing and casting a universal language spell on himself, he then asked the panicked family "Pardon me, but do you know where Hermione is? This should be her house."

"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get through security?" screamed the woman shooting him with the laser. "And how are you stopping the photonic stunner?" At which point she stopped firing the weapon, either because she realized it was pointless or she was running out of charge (Harry wasn't sure).

"I'm Harry, and… I don't remember your other questions. Can we start again, a bit slower?"

And so, began an awkward conversation between Harry and the Stiltson family. After a lot of denials, demands for proof, some additional shots from the gun, a nice afternoon tea, and access to a calendar and a hasty physics lesson (when told his mass should have made his speed impossible, Harry shrugged and said "magic"), the misunderstanding was finally settled. Harry had accidentally overshot his goal of seeing Hermione in 10 minutes, by about one millennium. Oops!

After realizing all his friends and family were long dead, Harry decided to honor what he figured would be Hermione's last wish and figure out how to properly travel near the speed of light without the time dilation. He also figured he would honor George and do a couple of impossible things that would annoy Hermione. So, he invented the spell for an ever-filling basket of food and drink (he could practically hear Hermione scream "but Gamp's first law") and gave the Stiltsons their very own family-bound unbreakable cornucopia. He then told them he was off to break reality and got his broom and was gone.

The Stiltsons never saw Harry again, though they greatly appreciated the cornucopia when ten years later the world government collapsed, and they were able to provide for their friends and family. After another thousand years, the Stiltson Empire ruled the world with a benevolent fist full of food. Though Harry would never know about this.

* * *

After an hour of his own time, Harry finally had figured out the trick for keeping the rest of the universe synched with himself (it never occurred to him to trying to keep himself synched with universe). He had also stayed true to annoying Hermione by figuring how to break the speed of light and achieve infinite speed. As such, he returned to Earth, and was curious if he had overshot again. He had, by a few million years.

Ten years later, he was brought back to the present. And, now he was bored again. Bored, bored, bored!

Harry was about to start reliving his memories yet again, when he felt a tug on his magic. An immensely strong tug. It was now becoming an outright pull. Harry knew he could ignore the amazingly strong pull but couldn't think of any reason to do so. This was something new (so hopefully not boring), so he allowed the aggressive pull to take hold of him. Yank!

* * *

Harry saw the world instantly shift. He was no longer sitting on the top of a redwood tree in his massage chair. He was standing in the middle of a circle in a familiar looking room. He was also excited to see he was surrounded by a group of people, he figured they would be better conversationalists then the squirrels who shared his redwood. And in front of him was standing a familiar face, if only he could remember the name. With a shrug, he smiled and gave his best shot.

"A Busty Humble Boar! How are you?"

Albus Dumbledore frowned in response.

* * *

AUTHOR NOTE 3 - Some people have expressed confusion about the time differential. Based on time dilation (you can look up time dilation calculators online), if Harry is travelling at 99.99999999999999% of the speed of light, then 10 minutes for him would be 1000 years to an observer on Earth. This would mean that from his perspective he reached Mars in less than a second. However, Harry decided to fly around space for about 10 minutes just for the heck of it. He didn't realize there would be a difference between his 10 minutes and Hermione's 10 minutes. In short, Harry took the 1000 light year scenic route.


	2. Chapter 2 - Padfoot, Where Are You?

Albus Dumbledore sat at the table in the kitchen of 12 Grimauld Place, waiting for the rest of the members of his Order of The Phoenix to arrive. As they slowly made their way into the kitchen, he once again prayed to the universe that he could just go back to the days of being a teacher. He had been happy then, before the wizarding world decided that he was to act as its protector. He would have been pleased to not have to take on the mantle of general, spymaster, statesman, and Leader of The Light. If he thought his Order would accept it, he would have become just another powerful fighter and left the leadership to people with the temperament for war, like Alastor or Kingsley. Every life or death decision weighed on his soul, and the weight was even more as he knew that he was relying largely on guesswork and luck. And last night that luck had finally run out.

Coming out of his morose thoughts, he looked around the table and was startled to see everyone had arrived. Looking around the table, he saw looks of concern, fear, boredom, and the expected anger from Sirius and Remus. Looking along the edge of the kitchen door, he saw the remarkable extendable ears that the Weasley twins had created and knew the children would be listening upstairs. Normally he would have surreptitiously cast a spell to prevent the eavesdropping, but this time he couldn't muster the energy to care about being overheard.

Albus, with a sigh, began the meeting. "Good evening my friends, by now, all of you are aware of what happened last night to young Harry. While I would love to give us all time to simply mourn, I fear that the events of last night will give Voldemort the encouragement to speed up his plans. And we must decide about how to best move forward in defending our world, and how far we should go."

It was a sign of how shocked the Order was by recent event, that barely anyone muttered or even flinched at Voldemort's name. After a pause, it was Alastor Moody who spoke up in his gravelly voice. "While what happened to the boy is a tragic loss, Albus, why would that impact Voldemort's plans? We all know Harry was a target, but that must have been because represented the only living example of Voldemort' loss. Is there something you aren't telling us?"

Had things not been so serious, Albus would have smiled at this moment. He knew he would have likely talked around the issue all night, but he was glad he could count on Alastor to cut to the heart of issue. Of course, had things not been so serious, then he would never answer the question. As such, he finally answered. "My answers have to do with what you are all protecting in the Department of Mysteries. What you are protecting, is a prophecy. The reason Voldemort will likely speed up his plans, is that the prophecy says that Voldemort can only be defeated by Harry. And Voldemort knows this."

It took some time before the ensuing chaos settled down, and Remus Lupin finally was heard to ask, "So, setting aside my desire to break your crooked nose, and assuming you are correct about us having no hope with Harry gone, what do you suggest we do?"

Wincing at the rage directed his way, Albus responded, "There is a ritual that can be performed. We can summon someone from another reality who is capable of defeating Voldemort for us. I had never suggested this before, because there is no way to return them to their home and it is a terrible thing to do to someone. This is not a decision that can be made by me solely. I trust all of you with my life and the future of our world, so we must all agree on this ritual or else we will move on and try something else. Now, what are your thoughts?"

After a very long conversation, with plenty of vacillating, it was finally decided to move forward with the ritual. And so, Albus Dumbledore stood in front of the ritual circle, and acted as the focus for summoning help. As he summoned, he focused his magic with theintent of summoning someone who could defeat Voldemort and wouldn't cause a blood bath in the end, all the while wishing in the back of his mind that they could have saved Harry.

As the magic pulsed, they could all feel there magic plunging into the circle and it took much effort to stay standing as their magic began to strain with the effort. Then, without a sound or flash, a man was standing in the circle as if he had always been standing there. He looked like an older version of Harry Potter, except a bit healthier, a bit wilder, and much more completely devoid of clothing (he was wearing a jaunty top hat, but nothing else). The old Harry looked around, seemingly confused, and then focused in on Albus. Old Harry then grinned (a huge and manic smile) and opened his mouth to speak.

"A Busty Humble Boar! How are you?"

Albus Dumbledore frowned in response.

* * *

A heavy silence descended on the room. Some Order members looking away from the mostly nude man, some focusing their vision on his face, others focused on… other parts, and those with magical eye prosthetics performed all three. Albus found himself studying the top hat with great interest and wondered how Old Harry managed to make the top hat match his outfit when the rest of the outfit was just skin. The children watching from the stairs pretty much followed the same responses as the order, except the Weasley twins were wondering about creating trick top hats to make one appear nude.

The silence was shattered by a loud barking laugh from Sirius Black. As all eyes turned to him (besides Old Harry who just looked around the familiar house with interest), Sirius tried to catch his breath. He then looked over at Albus, wheezed "Busty" and then proceeded to laugh some more.

While Albus could appreciate the humor, he needed to talk to the summoned Harry. A quick silencing charm later, Sirius was rolling silently on the ground while Remus observed his friend's antics with a smile.

Turning to Old Harry, Albus cleared his throat to catch the attention of the nude man. "I am afraid there might be a difference between myself and your version of me. My name is Albus Dumbledore and…"

"Albus Dumbledore! That's it! Wow, I have been trying to remember that name for so long. What about Open Door Mart, or Warm Griddle, and his Seth Jeters, are those names right?"

Albus blinked stupidly for several seconds before risking responding, "If you are referring to Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, and Death Eaters, then you did not have the correct names. Tell me, how long has it been since you defeated your Voldemort that you could forget both his name, his followers, and my name?"

Smiling at finally getting the names straight again, Old Harry dismissively replied, "Somewhere between 10 years and 10 million years. So, what am I doing here?" As he asked his question he walked towards the edge of the summoning circle.

Quickly Dumbledore shouted, "Stop! I have to drop the summoning circle myself, it's impossible for you to…" Albus trailed off as he watched the man walk across the perimeter of the circle without pausing. "I suppose I was mistaken. Could you perhaps put on some clothes before I answer your questions?"

Looking down, Old Harry frowned and mumbled. "Huh, forgot I lost my clothes to the squirrels in last week's game of poker". With a shrug, clothes appeared on his body, earning a couple of groans from the group of Order members and from the direction of the stairs. Looking back at Albus, he waved his hand, and everyone found themselves sitting in very comfortable loungers (including those on the now expanded staircase). For a moment, he thought of adding massage features to the chairs, but then decided that might be a bit distracting. If things got boring, then he would add the massagers. Sitting across from Albus, he once again asked. "Now, Albus, what am I doing here?"

Albus took a few moments to process the casual magic he had just seen, while noting that this chair was far comfier than any he had successfully conjured. Then the seriousness of the moment hit him again, and he began to explain the situation.

* * *

At the end of the explanation, Old Harry stared intently at Albus before responding. "So, you decided that you would just pull me from my home dimension. Away from everything I knew. Away from all my loved ones. Permanently tear me away from my home, just so that I could fight a war that had no chance of ever impacting me until you kidnapped me! Did it ever occur to you that there are lines that you never cross, no matter what!?"

Nervously, Albus began replying to the clearly powerful Old Harry, "well…"

Old Harry then smiled, "Nah, I'm just messing with you. Don't worry about it. So, what happened to your local Harry… man it's going to be confusing to call us both Harry. Your Harry is the Local Harry, so let's call him Larry. Since I am a Harry from a different dimension, you can call me Dairy. So, what happened to Larry?"

Albus was starting to develop a headache that he hadn't felt since the Marauders were attending Hogwarts, but still responded. "If neither of you will be called Harry, then why change both names… never mind, I fear that I will not care for the answer. As for what happened to Har… Larry, I am sorry to say that last night he was Kissed."

"Kissed? Well, I was a bit of a late bloomer in that regard, but I don't think that you need to be sorry about that. So, who was it? Was it Ginny?"

"No, it wasn't Ginny Weasley, it was a…"

"Hermione, then?"

"No! It was…"

"Neville?"

"No! It was… wait, Neville?"

"Well, sure, he may not be much to look at right now, but come 7th year… I mean, damn! I was never interested myself, but if I liked guys I would be lucky to land him. I recommend that anyone interested to get a lock on him early." On the staircase, at least two people began contemplating getting that lock. Unbeknownst to anyone, Neville Longbottom had just been guaranteed a massive increase in his popularity at Hogwarts.

"… No, it was not Neville. It was a Dementor"

"Oh… well, that's an odd first choice for kissing partners. But, to each their own"

Desperately wanting some headache cure potion, Albus pinched his nose for a moment and plowed forward. "Perhaps things are different in your home dimension, but here when a Dementor kisses you it sucks…"

"Nice!"

"…out your soul!"

"Oh! So, why not just get it to give back the soul?"

"That's not possible, I am afraid. It has been tried, and no one knows how to even start performing such a deed."

"Ah, so you summoned me to solve The Mystery of Larry's Missing Soul! I understand now. Well let's get to work!"

"That's not quite what…"

"No, don't worry about it. You can all relax". With a wave of his hand, all the chairs had their deep massage feature activated and all protests died on the lips of some very relaxed fighters for the Light.

* * *

Springing up from his chair, Dairy looked around the room to decide what his next step should be. Once his eyes settled on Sirius, a broad smile spread across his face. He had an idea! So, with a snap of his fingers, Sirius's chair disappeared.

Falling to the floor, Sirius groaned at no longer having his comfy chair. He then looked around and was surprised to see the entire Order lost in their own private worlds of ecstasy, and he was making a concerted effort to ignore the moans of pleasure coming from Dumbledore. Looking over at Old Harry (no, he said to say Dairy and who was Padfoot to deny someone's use of a different name), he saw the unsettling grin on the man's face. He knew that grin, he had seen that grin on James Potter's face right before he was about to lay out an epic prank (well, James had grins that were a bit less crazy looking, but the point stood). Looking at that smile, he felt a trickle of hope enter his heart.

"Do you really think you can help my Harry?" Sirius asked tentatively. Dairy's smile just grew wider (where the borders of the smile now extended past the borders of his face). Sirius only had one response to that, "I'm in! What do you need?"

Letting his grin return to a physically possible width, Dairy clapped his hands. "First, we are going to need a crew. So, staircase crew, come on over!"

Groans came from the stairs as the children lost their massage chairs, but soon they walked into the sitting room (not that was the official name of the room, but it was indeed full of people who were sitting). In walked the Weasley twins, then Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Dairy was exceptionally pleased to see the typical look of frustration on Hermione's face, the one that said that she had just observed things happen that she knew to be impossible. It was nice to know that he could still irritate Hermione, no matter the universe.

Dairy began speaking with great enthusiasm. "Thank you from coming, I know the trek was arduous. Now we have a proper mystery to solve, and to properly solve a proper mystery, you need to have a proper team. And what is the first thing you need to have a proper team?" Without waiting for a response, he plowed forward. "That's right, you need a mascot! Sirius, please transform into Padfoot."

Confused, but game, Sirius changed into his animagus form of a great big shaggy black dog.

Ignoring the looks of confusion from everyone, and slight suspicion from Hermione, Dairy giggled in glee while patting Padfoot's head. "OK, now a mascot for a mystery solving team is no good if he stays silent. So, speak boy! Speak!"

Padfoot tilted his head and opened his mouth to bark, "Bark! Wait, that wasn't a bark, I said the actual word 'bark'. Whoa! I can talk? How can I talk?" Tail wagging wildly, he looked up to see Dairy frowning. "What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Continuing to frown, Dairy responded. "I guess… but a good mascot needs to be a bit more loveable. This clear talking just isn't doing it for me. Hmmm" As he pondered, he began to pleasantly scratch Padfoot's throat. After a moment, he spoke up again. "OK, speak again"

"Ralright, raht ro I ray? Ruh Ro! Raht Rappened?" Padfoot looked up in a panic, but then saw the familiar pranker's gleam in Dairy's eye and then knew this was exactly what was planned. Padfoot didn't understand why this was the plan, but relaxed nonetheless.

Eyes sparkling with pleasure, Dairy happily exclaimed, "Perfect! Now we need someone to partner up with you…" Looking around the room, he took in the laughing forms of the twins, the amused confusion from Ron and Ginny, and the blatantly annoyed look on Hermione's face. "Ron!"

Startled, Ron hesitantly stepped forward. "I can't turn into a dog, you know. But…" Ron gathered his courage and continued, "But if it will help Harry, you can turn me into whatever animal you want. Whatever it takes!" Had Ron been not so focused on Dairy, he would have noticed the looks of surprise and respect from Hermione and his family.

Dairy momentarily had a genuinely sane smile as he remembered his own Ron, and then the manic smile returned, and the moment was over. "No animal transformation needed from you. All I need from you is a quick change of outfit, and for you to start each sentence with the word 'Like' and end it with 'Man'. Oh, and if you come across a kitchen while on the case, try to make the biggest sandwich possible and share it with Pads. He's a growing dog and you're a growing boy, so it seems like a good partnership."

Ron, while not fond of sharing food, was willing to make the sacrifice for his best mate. "Like, you got a deal, man!" As he stepped away, he didn't notice his clothes changing to a green top and brown bellbottom pants.

Smiling, Dairy looked at Ginny. Not waiting to be called, she stepped forward. "OK, what is my role? I don't know where you are getting this from, but clearly you know what you want."

Dairy placed his hand on her shoulder, instantly transforming her clothes into a short purple dress and a green scarf. "I just need you to be a strong-willed red head, who acts as the voice of common sense. I know it's a stretch, but I think you can do it." Ginny snorted in response and moved back to Ron and Padfoot.

As soon as he looked at her, Hermione immediately spoke up. "I am not going to be the Velma of the group! This is all ridiculous! I don't care if you somehow made Sirius talk, or convinced Ron to share food, or are apparently more powerful than Merlin. I am not going to do it!"

Dairy let the low-level Hermione rant roll over him like a wave of warm bath water. He vowed at that moment to always make a point of annoying Hermiones, wherever he might find them. Before she could calm down enough to move into a moderate-level rant, Dairy spoke those five special words needed to take the wind out of her sails. "It's Velma or it's Scrappy".

Hermione's eyes widened in panic. "Velma it is!" Then, silently added, "please just make the sweater more flattering". Dairy shrugged and looked down at her body. Hermione followed his eyes and saw herself now wearing an orange sweater and maroon skirt. She was pleased to see the sweater was a bit more form fitting then she expected. She was unsurprised to feel thick glasses slide down her nose, but she was pleasantly surprised to push the glasses up and catch Ron looking at her wide-eyed with a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth.

Clapping his hands in joy, Dairy smiled at his team. "Now that we have our team together, there is one last thing to take care of. Georges, come over here please"

The twins shared a look and then turned to the clearly crazy and powerful prankster wizard and began to speak in their patented shared speaking.

"You know, there are"

"Two of us, and I'm"

"Fred. And I'm"

"George. We're not both"

"George"

Dairy smiled. "Nope, you're wrong about that. I only intentionally provide amusement for George. So, if one of you isn't George, then not-George won't get to watch what happens next. So, which one of you is George, and which of you doesn't get to watch us solve a mystery?"

Without looking at each other, both immediately said, "I'm George!"

"Great!" Dairy pointed behind the Georges and they looked to see a big screen TV showing all of them standing in the room. "Enjoy the show! Hey gang, we have a mystery to solve!"

With that, Dairy's clothes turned into a white shirt, blue pants, and an orange ascot. He then started to walk to a van in the middle of the room (a green and blue van with the words 'The Mystery Machine' on the side), and everyone else followed him. He happily ignored Hermione's frustrated huff as she climbed in next to him in the front seat.

"Time to solve The Mystery of Larry's Missing Soul! Off to Azkaban!"

The van disappeared from the sitting room, leaving many barely aware (though relaxed) adults, and two twins discussing the merits of both going by the same name of George, while they watched the van appear at Azkaban (which looked suspiciously like an abandoned amusement park).

* * *

Dairy delighted in how things followed along as he had hoped. He immediately had everyone split up. He and Ginny explored the Hall of Mirrors of Azkaban. Hermione explored the Rickety Wooden Rollercoaster of Azkaban. Ron and Padfoot quickly found the Fully Stocked Modern Kitchen of Azkaban. And after uneventful explorations, he and Ginny met up with Hermione at the Convenient Nets and Traps Room of Azkaban.

With glee, Dairy saw that Hermione was prepared to start up a Level 2 Rant, and so created two chairs for him and Ginny as Hermione began to vent while wildly waving a piece of chalk she had found along the way.

"None of this makes sense! Honestly, I don't know why Dumbledore thought summoning you would be of any help! Yes, you're powerful, but crazy is crazy, and you have long since passed crazy! What did you think we would achieve by coming here? And how is this even Azkaban? Azkaban is a prison. It is not an abandoned amusement park! And I highly doubt that every room and hallway of Azkaban has a sign that ends with 'of Azkaban'. I can guarantee it doesn't have a room called the 'Convenient Nets and Traps Room of Azkaban'. Do you honestly think that this ridiculous trip is going to somehow restore Harry's soul? Speaking of that, if this is Azkaban, why have we not seen a single dementor or prisoner? This is all so… impossible!"

Dairy smiled as Hermione began to wind down, these rants had made the trip completely worthwhile. "What do you have in your hand there, Hermione?"

Looking at her hand, she felt her fire reignite. "This? This is very important! This… is a piece of chalk! I found it on the ground near the rollercoaster, because obviously every prison has a rollercoaster. I only picked it up because it seemed odd to have a piece of blackboard chalk lying around in a prison or an amusement park or whatever this place is supposed to be. Although, maybe the chalk is odd because it is the only thing that is not odd about this entire place. I suppose you want me to believe that this chalk is some sort of clue? What, am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to magically have the answer enter my head by looking at the chalk and saying 'Jinkies! I know how to give Harry back his soul!'". Hermione paused, her eyes fluttering as she felt the answer magically enter her head. Looking at the chalk in wonder she silently spoke again. "Jinkies, I really do know how to give Harry back his soul. And I know who sent the dementor to attack him." Mystified, she then looked up and into the gleaming eyes of a highly amused dimensional traveler. "Shut up!"

* * *

While Hermione was solving the mystery, Ron and Padfoot had just finished putting together a 6-foot-tall sandwich and were preparing to feast. Ron handed half to a drooling Padfoot and looked admiringly at his sandwich. "Like, I've never had a sandwich so tall, Pads Man. Like, I don't know if I can finish this, but I am sure going to try, Man!"

"Re Roo Ron! Rum Rum!"

As both began to open their mouths to eat a truly insane amount of food, Padfoot looked up and stopped immediately.

"Ron! Ron! Rehind Roo!"

Stopping millimeters from his first tasty bite, he sighed and looked at Padfoot.

"Like, what did you say Pads, Man?"

"Rehind Roo! Rementor!"

"Like, did you say Dementor, Man?"

"Res"

"Like, and did you say he's right behind me, Man?"

"Res"

Slowly turning around, Ron saw a black cloak wearing Dementor floating inches away from him. Ron gulped, "Like, good evening Mr. Dementor, sir… Man". The Dementor started to reach out to Ron, "Like, Zoinks, Man! Like, run Pads, Man!". With that, the Dementor had two humongous sandwiches flung at him from the direction of two dust puffs remaining in the shape of the dog and boy. The chase was on.

* * *

After several minutes of the Dementor chasing Ron and Padfoot, Padfoot chasing the Dementor and Ron, and the Harlem Globe Trotters chasing the three of them, they finally ran into a room full of nets.

"Now!" yelled Ginny from behind a crate labeled "Convenient Hiding Crate of Azkaban". With that, a net pulled up from the floor capturing the Dementor.

"Like, you saved our lives Ginny, Man!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked over at Dairy. "Thank you for not giving me any sort of weird speech impediments. Jeepers, that would have been annoying… Damn it!"

Dairy just smiled. "Good work gang, it looks like we have captured the Dementor that took Larry's soul." He paused for a minute while looking at Hermione. Clearing his throat, he spoke again. "I said, good work gang! It looks like we have captured the Dementor that took Larry's soul. Isn't that right Hermione?"

Hermione glared at Dairy, and finally started talking through gritted teeth. "Not so fast, Different Dimension Harry (I refuse to call you the ridiculous name of Dairy). This isn't really a Dementor, it's really…". At which point she then pulled the Dementor's hood down.

Everyone gasped. "Old Lady Umbridge!?"

Hermione, still glaring at Harry started to explain in a monotone. "Yes, Old Lady Umbridge, who I somehow know despite having never heard of her before. You see, it all came down to this piece of chalk. It reminded me of the fact that we are missing a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and the Minster of Magic is unhappy with the Headmaster. Clearly, wishing to usurp the school, Old Lady Umbridge stole the enchanted Blackboard Chalk of Sluos. She then dressed up as a Dementor and attacked Harry (I will not call him Local Harry or Larry!), to prevent him from defying the Minister. The chalk was used to steal his soul, so could make it look like he had received the Dementor's Kiss. It all makes sense"

After finishing her speech, she then intensified her glare. "Damn it! No, it does not all make sense! None of that makes sense! This entire day has been… ridiculous!"

A furious Old Lady Umbridge spoke up, "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!"

With that, police officers appeared out of nowhere, placed her in a squad car and disappeared just as suddenly.

Hermione screamed in frustration and stomped over to The Mystery Machine and aggressively got in the front seat. "Let's go back to headquarters, so I can start repressing this whole event".

Everyone else followed and joined her in the van. Right before the van blinked away from its location, returning Azkaban back to its normal state, Padfoot succumbed to an unexplainable desire to shout out "Raddy Raddy Root!"

* * *

Once back at headquarters and out of the van, the Mystery Inc. team were greeted to a wildly laughing pair of twins, who had clearly been enjoying the live broadcast of their adventure at Azkaban. Dairy was pleased to see that the Georges had enjoyed themselves, so he wiggled a finger and instructions for how to replay and copy the broadcast appeared in front of the twins.

"Well, gang, it looks like there is only one thing left to do before we can call this mystery solved." Dairy then plucked the chalk from Hermione's clenched fist and waved his hand. The room went silent as the ever-present sound of massages ceased and the seated Order members slowly came out of their relaxed stupors to become aware of the events in the room. In front of Dairy, a bed appeared with the local Harry Potter staring straight into space. Dairy placed the chalk on the forehead of the unresponsive child. The chalk took on a golden glow, while Dairy looked above the boy's body. Suddenly, he snapped his hand out into the air to grasp at seemingly nothing. As soon as he closed his hand, the spectral form of the boy became visible to everyone. A gasp was heard, but other than that, everyone was holding their breath. Dairy brought the spirit down to the body, merging spirit and body together (no one noticed that the chalk also dissolving into the boy's forehead).

As the seconds passed, Larry did not move. The atmosphere of the room began to change from hope into renewed despair. Dairy frowned at Larry, and then smirked and bent down to whisper in Larry's ear. "If you don't wake up on your own, Vernon will wake you up. And I warn you, he's naked."

With a horrified scream of "I'm up!", Larry jumped out of his bed. Looking around, and realizing the Weasley Twins being there meant he had likely been pranked, he calmed down. He looked over at a man who looked vaguely like his dad, but with his mother's eyes. "Who are you?"

"Eh, recaps are boring, have the Georges show you the recording." Then, looking over at the Mystery Inc. team, he smiled and said, "well gang, that's another mystery solved" With that, everyone's clothes reverted to their original state, Padfoot returned to his Sirius human form, and The Mystery Machine returned to the ether. With the return of relative normality, everyone ran to Larry to make sure he was OK and tell him about everything that had passed.

Albus walked over to Dairy, with his eyes shining with unshed tears. "My boy, you have done something remarkable. I can never thank you enough for bringing young Harry back to us. If there is anything I can do for you, just say the word and I will do everything in my power to do it."

Dairy shrugged, "You relieved my boredom, we're even. However, if you want to do something, go out and prank your dark wizards. You're a powerful wizard, I know you don't want to kill anyone, but no one said you can't try annoying them enough to get them to change their ways. If nothing else, it will be amusing." Due to his desire to repay his debt, Albus would reluctantly end up honoring this request, and would be shocked by the fact his pranks would eventually convert over half of Voldemort's soldiers to the Light (with the majority resulting from The Great Wizengamot Waffle Kerfuffle).

"Now, I have to go talk to the Georges before I leave this dimension."

Wincing, Albus responded. "I am truly sorry my boy, but the summoning was a one-way trip. You are stuck here".

Already walking away, Dairy simply replied, "You are assuming that I was summoned unwillingly. I was only stuck in my home dimension because I didn't know there were other dimensions to visit. I know better now."

"Hello George and George. I am about to leave. It was nice seeing both of you Georges again. Do me a favor and hand this note to Larry whenever he starts seeming like a downer. Or before school starts. Or when you get bored. Whatever happens first."

After handing the note to the twins, he caught Larry's eyes. "Take care Larry. Now that I am leaving, we can both be Harry Potter again. Enjoy that!" With that, the local Harry Potter watched as his counterpart seemed to deflate and wink out of existence, while accompanied by the sound of a whoopie cushion.

"Did he call me… Larry?"

* * *

Within 3 days, Harry Potter had once again become moody about the fight against Voldemort. So, the twins (who had decided to publicly both go by George), handed Harry the note as promised. Reading the note, he looked up at the twins with a confused look on his face. "It just says for me to say, 'Hey gang, we have a mystery to solve'".

Instantly, Harry was wearing a white shirt, blue pants, and an orange ascot. Additionally, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Padfoot, and The Mystery Machine appeared in his now expanded room. With a grin, he noted everyone was wearing the Mystery Inc. gear. He looked down at the paper and saw a new line appear. Looking at everyone again he smiled widely and exclaimed, "Time to solve The Mystery of How to Defeat Voldemort!" Within 20 minutes, Voldemort had been depowered and unmasked as Old Man Riddle, sent off to prison in a police squad car, and Harry got to enjoy a pleasant fifth year at Hogwarts.

Over the years, many more mysteries were solved. Ron and Padfoot never got to eat their increasingly impressive sandwiches. Hermione was always annoyed. All was well.


	3. Chapter 3 - Buffy Lives

AUTHOR NOTE – This is crossed with Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Harry Potter was excited. He was falling through the gaps between dimensions, with the sole desire to find something fun to do. The fall itself was fun in of itself, it was like riding an intense rollercoaster. Well, a rollercoaster where you are stretched out to all corners of infinity, while riding an infinite number of rollercoasters, with each rollercoaster twisting and turning at infinite speeds, while you are playing hooky from school. So, not really like riding a rollercoaster at all. Either way, it was a lot of fun.

Eventually, the sensation became old, and Harry decided that it was time to check out the next dimension. So, with a pulse of his magic, he found himself in a new dimension. A new dimension! It was amazing! It was exciting! It was… an empty graveyard. Harry was already missing his not-rollercoaster.

As Harry walked around the graveyard, he was starting to suspect that he may have not yet fully gotten the knack for finding fun dimensions. Admittedly, he did have a moment of excitement when a vampire tried to attack him, but that was quickly resolved by the usage of a simple suggestion spell to the demonic entity to become a vegetarian. Though Harry might have been more amused had he known that the suggestion spell would prove contagious to vampires through simple touch, which would result in a purely vegetarian vampire population within 200 years (with no new vampires due to a lack of desire to drain people). Not knowing that, however, Harry remained unamused.

About ready to give up, Harry heard someone say the name of the Egyptian god "Osiris" and felt the magic of the area begin to gather and concentrate in one place. This was more like it! Making himself invisible, he traveled to the highest concentration of magic. It was a group of four people (three women and one man) sitting around the grave of Buffy Summers (if the headstone could be believed), with one of them (a pretty red-headed witch) daubing herself with blood from an urn (knowing magical folks, it probably had an unimaginative like "Urn of Osiris" or "Pottery of Blood" or "Brown Jar of Magic").

Harry watched with interest as he saw an apparently invisible man (no one else noticed him, and the magic rolling off of him practically screamed "Look how invisible I am!") stepped through an apparently invisible rift in space to look down on the witch. The invisible man (Osiris, Harry guessed, what with that being the god being called upon) began to slice the witch's arms (she was named Willow, based on a panicked shout by the one man in the group of four) and Harry only stopped himself from intervening when one of the other women said it was expected. Who was Harry to get in the way of someone else's kicks?

After a time, he started hearing a muffled voice coming from the direction of Willow. The source became obvious when a snake popped out of her mouth and started slithering away. Harry was amused as he heard the snake saying "Oh, that was so gross! Ewwww! I am going to have to shed a dozen times before I feel clean again. Oh, and how am I going to get back to my den from here?"

Feeling generous, Harry made himself visible to the snake and hissed back, "I hear you on that, it is never pleasant to be up another creature's throat. Just think about your den, and I'll give you a quick clean and send you back".

The snake watched the human wave his hand, and felt his body become thoroughly cleaned. Thinking hard on his home, he felt himself start to fade from here to there. With a final "Thanks Amigo!" he returned to his home, feeling completely clean and happy. He was then promptly caught and eaten by a hawk.

Almost immediately forgetting the snake, Harry watched with interest as Osiris began to pour energy into Willow, surrounding her in a beam of light. As the light connected to the sky, he could see a tendril of soul magic making its way down to the grave. When the tendril was mere feet away from the ground, a pretty blonde woman with sparking electronics showing under a slash on her top (Harry wondered if that was a normal thing for people in this dimension) ran up to tell Willow that she was injured (saying that the blonde was injured, not that Willow was injured, despite in this case they were both injured). Then a gang of motorcycle riding demons followed shortly behind the sparking blonde. In short, Harry was feeling much more confident about having found an interesting dimension.

During the chaos, Willow continued to be bathed in light as Osiris pumped magic through her. Then, with only an inch to go before the tendril touched the ground, a motorcycle ran over the Brown Osiris Pot of Blood. The light immediately ceased, and the four ritualists and electrifying blonde ran away. Harry stayed and watched as Osiris began ranting and cursing up a storm. Finally, after slyly looking around for observers, Osiris shrugged and grasped the tendril and pulled it the rest of the way to the ground. With the connection made, Osiris smiled and disappeared.

Harry looked up and saw a soul now hurtling to the ground. Looking back at the grave, Harry rolled his eyes and then disappeared.

* * *

Six feet below, Buffy Summers was uninterested in all the action that had occurred only a short distance above her. This was likely caused by her having been dead and decomposing for the previous five months (though one tries not to assume things). However, though unwilling, she was about to fall off the death wagon and have a relapse with life. Magic surged into her body, reversing all the effects of decomposition and returning her to her state as of right before death. With the body healed, her soul then merged back into her body. With a mighty gasp, she opened her eyes to a completely unfamiliar location.

The last thing she remembered in the land of the living was hurtling towards a raging portal hovering 30 feet in the air, hoping to prevent her world from being sucked into a hell dimension. Now, she was in a quaint living room while lying on an exceedingly comfortable reclining massage chair (she knew this because she was both fully reclined and receiving the best massage of her life from said chair). Looking around the room there was black-haired man sitting in an identical chair. He had wide (slightly crazed) smile, but kind green eyes, so she figured he was safe enough for the moment. After a half hour, she reluctantly ended the massage and sat up. Looking over at the man who was just relaxing near her, she finally spoke up.

"So, this a spiffy chair and you're not pinging my Slaydar, but there is something a bit wigsome about this place. I am pretty sure I was dead, and that this is not the afterlife I was in. The again, these chairs definitely seem like they were borrowed from Heaven. So… make with the splainy!".

The smiling man sat up and looked at Buffy, his ever-present smile remaining present as ever. "Well, first, I am Harry and I take it your name is Buffy. Right?" Seeing a nod from Buffy, he continued. "Well Buffy, the very short answer is that you were recently pretty dead, well not so pretty, but definitely dead. And I have to say it was really neat to see you go from the ugly dead to the pretty alive. As for how that happened…" Harry then explained what he observed.

After completing his explanation and getting Buffy to explain how she came to be dead in the first place (well second place, if you include her short-lived drowning death), Buffy looked and sounded numb. "I can't believe they brought me back. I was at peace, maybe even in Heaven. They brought me from my eternal peace, and now I have to fight nightmares again? How could they do that to me?"

Harry looked at her with slight sadness to his smile. "To be fair to them, it sounds like they assumed that your jump into a portal to Hell would have likely led you to an unpleasant location and so you probably shouldn't kill them for it. But to be fair to you, they were wrong. And now here you are, pulled from retirement to risk your life killing vampires and demons. They should pay a price for that. How do you feel about pranking them incessantly until you feel better?"

Initially expecting a speech about her sacred duty, she began to drop into a brooding state of such quality that it would have invoked envy in a certain broody ensouled vampire. But, with the question about pranking, she allowed herself to find hope that someone was on her side (in fact, there were plenty of people on her side, but it's a proven scientific fact that being torn from Heaven causes varying levels of self-centeredness and grouchiness for up to one year for each month spent in Heaven. Science!). It's questionable if she would still be slowly filling with hope if she realized that Harry was mainly on her side because it was the side of furthering his own amusement.

Unaware of the emotional rollercoaster going on within Buffy's heart, Harry continued thinking out loud. "I was once a heroic type of guy myself, so I can guess at your motivations. I figure you would still feel compelled to help your friends and strangers from those demons. And you would also need to have time for sleep, and making money, and all that other stuff that one doesn't have to worry about when retired… That's it! We need to let you be mostly retired first!"

Buffy watched, with a mixture of concern and curiosity, as Harry's mildly manic smile went to fully manic. He ripped a chunk of wood from the floor, and then concentrated on the chunk. The wood glowed golden and then transformed into a golden ring with smiley faces engraved around the inside of the ring. He then handed it to her, which she tentatively accepted.

Harry smiled at Buffy, and after a few seconds spoke up again. "Go ahead and put it on, any finger will do. Don't worry, it's spelled to not be noticed by anyone but you and me. Oh, and sorry about breaking your coffin's floor there, but it helps for it to already be attuned to you."

Shrugging, she slid the finger onto her index finger and felt a surge of power fill her body. Then replaying the previous words in her head, she looked up in shock. "What do you mean you broke my coffin? This is your house! … Isn't it?"

"Nah, this is your coffin, we are in your grave right now. But, it was a bit cramped for the two of us, and I figured you wouldn't mind if I expended the space a bit. Didn't I mention that?"

"No! You didn't mention that!" Buffy's eyes opened in panic and looked around the room, expecting it to start closing in on her. After several minutes of the room rudely staying the same size, Buffy slowly exhaled a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn't have panicked there. I mean, we have been in here for a couple of hours and I had no reason to be worried before. It's just, it's wiggy, you know? Wait, earlier, didn't you say that my friends were being attacked by demons? And we've been here for hours! We have to go!"

"Hmm, I guess I also didn't mention that time in this room is moving a million times faster than the rest of the universe? From their point of view, time has basically not passed at all since you returned to life. Basically, time is stopped for us. I could have sworn I mentioned that."

Buffy paused, and found herself instantly calming down. "Again, you didn't mention that. You mentioned a talking snake, but nothing about being able to stop time. Seems like a big thing to miss… but, since they're safe, I guess there is no reason to panic. Huh! There is no reason to panic. Wow, I think this is the first time I have ever felt truly calm since being called as a Vampire Slayer. That timey stoppy thing is a neat trick. Think you can set me up with something like that?"

Harry's eyes twinkled. "That's already a feature of your ring".

Buffy looked down at the ring with wide open eyes and stroked it reverently. "I can do a full patrol, and then still have time for a full night's sleep? Maybe even spend time studying if I go back to college?" With a hopeful and intense gaze, she looked at Harry. "What else does it do?"

Harry shrugged. "First, it is powered by you having fun, so no gloomy Gretchen for you. Now features… It lets you stop time for yourself, while obviously keeping you from aging. You can also bring others into the stopped time, but only if it furthers the noble goal of having fun. You can instantly travel anywhere you want to. Provides you with whatever funds you need to pursue your fun, in whatever the local currency is. Has an effect which will make everything you do with it seem not odd to any person, being, god, government, etc. It also tracks your friends and loved ones and will instantly stop time and transport you to them if they are in mortal danger or are about do something that will add to your fun. It has some other features you'll learn along the way. Oh, and it has an intelligence that will know what you want and run the appropriate functions for you without you needing to read a big instruction manual. The intelligence is like a Wizarding Portrait in a way."

As Harry talked, Buffy started to hug the ring to her body and grinned as she fantasized about day trips to Milan for shoe shopping on an unlimited budget), while silently and repeatedly mumbling "My Precious". As Harry finished, she looked up with joy in her eyes. "This is… Thank You! short pause What's a Wizarding Portrait?"

"You know what a portrait is? Well, it's like that but with more wizarding. The ring's intelligence is just like that, except completely different. Don't worry, it's not really important."

Buffy smiled at that, "It's The Magic Ring of Awesomeness, and I just go with it. That I can do! So… now what?"

Harry practically vibrated with joy when asked that question. "Now? Now we go and charge your ring by having fun!"

With that, Buffy looked down at her ring and felt it tell her where fun was to be had. With a grin, she thought of going to the fun. Instantly, the coffin reverted to normal, except it was now empty.

* * *

Buffy's friends, Anya, Tara, and Xander (who was carrying Willow), were frantically making their way back to the relative safety of their store known as The Magic Box. With the failure of the ritual to revive Buffy, they knew they were on their own to fend off the mass attack by a demon motorcycle gang. They needed to regroup. They needed a plan. They really needed Buffybot.

Across town, in Buffy's house, Spike (the Vampire) was preparing to leave to find out what was happening with the demon bikers. Before Buffy had died, he had promised to keep Buffy's teenage sister, Dawn, safe. Some people might say, if you are protecting a teenager known for being rebellious, it's stupid to tell the teenager to stay put while you leave them alone and undefended while there are demons attacking the neighborhood. Unfortunately, none of those "some people" were there to tell Spike to stay put. So, Spike set off to be stupid.

Buffybot (a robot who… well, looks like Buffy) was in another part of town. She needed to find Willow, so she could be repaired. Unfortunately, those nasty Biker Demons were blocking her way. If she had the capacity to worry, she would have done so at this point. Especially as her limbs were chained to four motorcycles about to quarter her. They revved their engines and began to take off.

Buffy and Harry popped into existence next to the Buffybot. Buffy's ring kept time stopped, while she examined the situation. Her first instinct was to kill the demons immediately, but she paused as she felt the ring mimic the same feeling of mild disappointment that she was sure her mom would feel when Buffy got a C on an easy test. Looking over at Harry, she saw him watching her with eager anticipation, adding to the sense she was being tested right now. She really wanted to get an A on this test. She looked back at the scene, and a random thought passed through her mind, and the ring replied with joy and the detailed plans for making her thought into reality. Plan in place, Buffy teleported to a chain toy store and back. Completing her wok, she then unstopped time. Conveniently, the ring made her invisible so she could watch without being noticed.

The biker demons took off, intent on quartering the Buffybot. As they raced forward, those riding motorcycles were quite surprised to find themselves now riding toddler tricycles. Those not riding ran to their motorcycles, only to have them replaced by bicycles, unicycles, and a high quality pogo stick. Some demons responded by choosing that moment to escape town. Others chose to stay and take down Buffybot, but the number of those demons quickly dwindled when the attackers began having their heads replaced with pumpkins, buckets, and a high quality pogo stick (she may have been having fun, but a Slayer is still a fairly violent woman). Buffybot went off to find Willow again.

Buffy and Harry transported to her house, just in time to see Spike drive off on a motorcycle he stole from a demon. Spike was surprised when he kept finding himself heading downtown and then his motorcycle mysteriously was facing the opposite direction and facing back towards Buffy's house (containing a thoroughly annoyed and abandoned Dawn). After a dozen redirections, he took the hint and headed back inside. Unfortunately for him, vampires have no reflection, so he had no idea that his platinum blonde hair was now dyed a vibrant neon pink. Dawn, still upset, decided to not warn him of his new coif and would let others tell him (it took 8 days for Spike to be informed).

Buffy and Harry transported to The Magic Box, where Xander, Anya, Tara, and Willow were planning their counteroffensive (not realizing that all the demons were now either out of town or dead). Buffy was still unsure of what punishment to apply yet, but figured she had time. So, she let them off light. All four of the friends felt an object appear in their hands. Xander discovered a creepy clown doll. Anya discovered a motorized bunny toy. Willow discovered a leaping frog toy. Tara discovered a note that said, "IOU one gift that scares you when I figure out your fears". From the outside of the store, one could hear three distinct screams of terror and one loud guffaw.

Buffy and Harry transported back to her house. Harry looked over at Buffy with a smile and said, "it looks like you got a hang of keeping the ring charged with your fun. I'm going to move on to my next dimension. Enjoy your retirement, and thanks for the laughs."

With that, Harry transformed into a paper doodle of a zombie. With a "Grrr… Argh!", he then blew away into an invisible crack in the surface of reality.

Harry would never know how Buffy used her powers to keep replacing Xander's twinkies (mid-bite) with crispy vegetables. Nor when she would place Giles' glasses back on his nose whenever he removed them for frustrated polishing. Nor when she weaned Willow off her magic addiction by proper application of surprise witch hats and frogs. Nor when she would gleefully accept The Trio as her arch-enemies, dedicated to one upping each other in pranking the town (keeping them from ever walking down darker paths). Nor when she would defeat a super powered evil priest through the proper application of suddenly appearing oil slicks and banana peels. Nor when she had an entire army of Uber Vamps turn to dust right in the middle of The First's big victory monologue (neutralizing The First while preventing a mass calling of Slayers). Nor when she died at 104 years of age, surrounded by her children, grandchildren, and loved ones. And certainly not when, upon Buffy's death, the current Slayer found a ring appear on her finger that would ensure every future Slayer would live long, full, and amusing lives.

But that was all in a future that Buffy had no clue about.

In the present, a mentally refreshed and happy Buffy looked in the windows of her home. With a warm and sincere smile on her face, Buffy disappeared and reappeared in a familiar living room sitting in front of an extremely familiar girl.

"Hello Dawn"

"Buffybot? When did you get here?"

"The hardest thing in this world… is to live in it. Want some company?"

"… Buffy?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Doctors Blue and Brown

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossover with Doctor Who

Harry Potter was relaxing on the beach. If anyone had been on the beach, they would likely have thought him odd. He was sitting in a plush black leather massage chair, wearing a gold speedo (despite the extremely cold and overcast weather), inside of a three-story tall sand castle with a moat full of crocodiles made of sand. Luckily, it was a bitterly cold Norwegian day and the beach was in a remote bay, so no one was there to notice him. Not that Harry cared about the lack of people, he simply enjoyed his heated sand castle, while watching the tide slowly creeping up to the borders of his moat.

Well, his attention wasn't completely on the moat, he was also watching the pulsating fracture in the fabric of reality, that sat about a few dozen meters away. It was the fracture that had pulled him to this reality. As he had been sliding between realities, at infinite speeds, he had noticed that this reality was two realities that were tightly tied together like two infinitely long perfectly straight popsicle sticks glued together for an art project. The neat thing was that there were many small holes connecting the two realities that were all being forcefully closed, and this fracture was the last closing hole. Harry figured that something was bound to happen with that. So, he summoned up a treacle tart and relaxed into his chair until the interesting thing happened. He didn't have to wait long.

Harry stood up when he heard an indescribable sound. It sounded like the concept of time had been personified in the form of a cat, and it was now hawking up a hairball (Harry supposed it was describable). Looking towards the fracture, he saw as a blue Police Box (not that he knew what a Police Box was, but he could certainly read the words above the door) appeared right at the fracture. When the Police Box had finished materializing, the Time Cat stopped hawking up its hairball. Harry felt conflicted on whether he should think of it as a Police Box or a Time Hairball.

As Harry worked on the Police Box vs Time Hairball conundrum, he dismissed his chair and castle while making himself invisible. He watched as the door to the Time Hairball opened and out walked three people (either a tight fit or an expanded internal space). One person was a blonde woman who appeared annoyed (she had immediately started complaining about being dropped off far from home), a younger blonde who appeared perplexed, and a Potteresque-haired man wearing a blue suit with sneakers who appeared avidly interested in everything. Something about the man and young woman called to Harry's magic, as if they were on the edge of… something.

Shortly, two more people left the Time Hairball (conundrum had been solved). One was a red-headed woman who appeared serious. The other was an identical twin of the man, but wearing a brown suit and sneakers, and a grim face. Harry missed the Weasley Twins, he would need to visit another Harry Potter dimension sometime soon. As Harry wondered why the grim-faced twin was so grim, he looked through the door of the Time Hairball, and heard a cry for help (though no one else seemed to notice it). Harry ignored the tension on the beach (some argument about people being left here) and invisibly passed through the door and willed himself visible to whatever was crying. It was the Time Hairball!

"TARDIS!"

Harry felt the word forcefully shouted into his brain from all directions. Interested and used to semi-sentient rooms, he stopped time for him and the Time Hairball.

"I SAID TARDIS! And, I am not semi-sentient, I am fully alive and sentient"

Looking at the center console, which seemed to be pulsing with barely restrained golden energy, he decided the console was the face of the room. "Why do you keep saying tardis?"

The room sighed and shrugged its shoulders (well, the room compressed in and out in an annoyed fashion). "I am the TARDIS. I am NOT the Time Hairball. I don't call you Dimension Hobo, so don't call me Time Hairball"

"… I think I like Dimension Hobo"

"Please call me TARDIS"

"Do I have to say your name in all-caps, as well?"

As much as a room can do so, the room blushed. "I like the all-caps".

"TARDIS it is, but I reserve the right to call you something else if I find it more amusing. You can call me Harry. So, why were you calling for help?"

And so, the Time Hairba… TARDIS told Harry about her Time Lord (who thought he was her owner) named The Doctor. How he and his friends had just saved all of reality (though Harry suspected that it would have just been this local subset of reality), and now he had to say goodbye again to Rose (the younger blonde, whom he loved) and was going to permanently strand the Doctor's clone in this dimension. The TARDIS knew that her Doctor (Harry was going to call him Doctor Brown) was logically right about leaving the clone (Doctor Blue), but she was still heartbroken about it.

When Harry asked about what made Rose and Doctor Blue feel like they were on the edge of something, she explained that Rose had been a container for the Time Vortex (the energy in the heart of the TARDIS) and had briefly been an all-powerful avatar of Time. Doctor Blue was a partial regeneration of Doctor Brown, the regeneration having been split between Doctor Blue and the redhead named Donna. So, Doctor Blue had a Time Lord mind, a Time Lord brain, and a human body. Meanwhile, Donna had a Time Lord mind, a human brain, and a human body (which meant Donna's mind would have to be suppressed to a human mind or else her physiology would burn her out).

Doctor Blue had to be left behind, because… well the TARDIS wasn't overly clear about that. She assured Harry it was all very logical, but he had the impression it was more of a case of Doctor Brown having some self-hate issues and not liking another him running around. Harry could have been wrong, but he also realized he didn't really care enough to think any further on the issue. No matter how logical the stranding, Doctor Blue was still a version of the TARDIS's Doctor and the TARDIS knew he would be miserable stuck on one planet for the rest of his life. She begged Harry to help somehow. Harry agreed to help, asking for a small souvenir in return.

* * *

Harry, having resumed time and left the TARDIS, watched as Doctor Brown watched on sadly as Doctor Blue whispered in Rose's ear and Rose kissed Doctor Blue. Doctor Brown and Donna entered the TARDIS, the Time Cat hawked up its hairball and the TARDIS disappeared. Moments later, the fracture disappeared, and the last hole between the Blue and Brown dimensions had been sealed. Doctor Blue, Rose, and … unnamed older blonde (Harry probably should have asked about her, but he supposed the TARDIS didn't really care that much about her) watched the spot where the TARDIS had stood, each with a look of deep contemplation on their face. Harry knew this was a somber moment and decided to honor the moment. He made himself visible behind them, and somberly walked to the spot where the TARDIS had been. He would have likely succeeded in honoring the somber tone of the moment if he had managed to keep the spring out of his step, wipe the large grin off his face, and remembered to change out of his shiny gold speedo.

"Hello folks! Doctor Blue, Rose, blonde lady trying to decide between staring at my face or my crotch, it's nice to meet you. I'm Harry, and I am here to fulfil a promise to a bossy blue box."

Doctor Blue (though he really would prefer just being called Doctor) was the first to respond. "Where did you come from? Perception filter, probably, oh I wish I still had my sonic. Don't see how you could hide it in your outfit… so biologic ability probably. And… wait, did you say bossy blue box?"

Harry's wide grin widened further. That breathless monologue, that need to answer anything confusing, Doctor Blue was this dimension's version of Hermione. Remembering his vow to annoy Hermiones wherever he found them, his eyes sparkled with joy. He wondered how difficult Doctor Blue was to annoy. "Yep, she was complaining about how you and Rose over there have a bit too much wanderlust to just be happy with a single planet. Old boxy asked me to help."

The older blonde (who had settled on a 60/40 split for crotch/face watching) looked up in shock. "That's not true! Rose has her new brother, Tony, and me and this dimension's version of her dad. You can be happy here, can't you Rose? Doctor?" She looked at their guilty faces and knew the answer. "I see"

"Mum…"

"Jackie…"

"Jackie!" Harry exclaimed. "It's nice to have a name for you, old Blue kept on about her Doctor and his Rose, and never really talked about anyone else. Well, except that Donna lady. So, really everyone but you, but I am sure she meant no offense. Anyways, I promised to help in exchange for a little something, so I guess I should get to work."

Doctor Blue's face changed from confused to deadly serious. Harry noted that he would have to remember that move and try it sometime later. "What did you take from her?"

"Nothing much, just a small cup of Time Vortex" Harry replied, pulling out a chipped faded blue teacup that was three quarters filled with swirling golden primal force of reality.

Doctor Blue opened his mouth several times (Harry assumed it was aborted attempts to speak but didn't like to assume). "How? That… You can't just… What!?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a tea cup. Time starts with T. What else would I hold it in? Honestly, Doctor Blue, you really need to use your mind. Anyway, let's get you a new TARDIS"

Doctor Blue (no, The Doctor, he was not going to call himself Doctor Blue, damn it!) was certain that he would normally have something more to say and was blaming his lack of reaction to being partially human. So, instead of speaking up, he just watched as the Speedo clad man, Harry, began to play with the sand.

Harry swirled the sand into the shape of a small play phone, the sort a toddler would play with (the only difference being this was made of sand and was pulsing with golden light). He then swirled some more sand into the shape of a tiger, which then stalked the play phone for a minute before pouncing and devouring the phone. It then proceeded to lick its sand fur and groomed itself. After another minute, Harry took a sip of the Time Vortex and then placed the tea cup in front of the sand tiger. It then proceeded to lap up the remaining Time Vortex. After another minute, the tiger began to hack. The Doctor heard an impossibly familiar noise, and Harry felt a telepathic broadcast of pure irritation. As the tiger hacked, the familiar noise became louder and louder, until finally the tiger spit out a full sized and extremely familiar blue Police Box.

Silence descended upon the beach. All that could be heard was the soft crash of the waves and the gentle purring of the tiger as Harry scratched its throat and ears.

Eventually, the minds of the people on the beach caught up with events, and Doctor Blue and Rose made their way to the brand-new TARDIS. Harry sat on the beach, pleased that Jackie had joined him in petting the tiger. He waited as Doctor Blue found a new sonic screwdriver. He waited as Doctor Blue discovered that it was a fully functional TARDIS. He waited as Doctor Blue discovered that this new TARDIS had all the same features and psychic profile as his original TARDIS. He waited because each new discovery was followed by a very loud protestation of "WHAT!?" and a long monologue about how it was completely impossible. It brought him great joy to break the brain of this dimension's Hermione. He was also equally pleased because Jackie's smile seemed to crack wider and wider with each yell of frustration from Doctor Blue. It greatly pleased Harry to have found this dimension's George Weasley.

Leaning over, he whispered in Jackie's ear. Asking her opinion on if he should perform his next planned step. She looked pensive, but finally nodded in agreement as Doctor Blue and Rose exited the TARDIS. Both seemed bursting with questions. As they prepared to ask their barrage of questions, the tiger (who Jackie had decided to name Mickey) walked over to the pair. The pair looked down at the tiger, as it approached, and then were surprised as the tiger licked each of their hands. That surprise of course was eclipsed as both felt their bodies fill with an intense golden energy, and their bodies began to transform at a fundamental level (a sensation that The Doctor knew very well).

At the end, they opened their eyes to see a conjured mirror in front of them showing their external forms unchanged. They both looked to Harry.

Harry smiled. "There that was a fair trade. I learn how to travel through time, and you get your TARDIS and reborn as Time Lords. Anyways, I explained the basics to Jackie, including how the same TARDIS exists in both dimensions. She'll explain what she feels like and withhold whatever amuses her. Short story, yes you are both Time Lords. You get unlimited regenerations, without the pesky unwanted change of outside form and personality (unless you want one). And Jackie gets to keep Mickey. Now, I promised one more thing to Old Blue, so I must head over to Doctor Brown's dimension. Have fun!"

Latching on to the last thing said, The Doctor replied "But you can't do that, the barriers between dimensions have been sealed. It's impossible!"

"Well, then have fun explaining this." With a sparkling smile, Harry popped away.

The Doctor looked where Harry had disappeared, then grinned broadly and shrugged. "Well, what's more impossible thing? Brilliant! So… Rose, how about the planet Barcelona?"

Harry would never know how The Doctor and Rose stayed together for the rest of their lives, never tiring of exploring all of time and space together. He would never know that he had overpowered Mickey the Tiger, and how Jackie would have the tiger create more TARDISes and transform trusted people to Time Lords. He would never know the horror The Doctor would have after realizing Jackie was a Time Lord. He would never know that Earth eventually became New Gallifrey. And he certainly would never know how Mickey would occasionally sneak into The Doctor's TARDIS and leave a hairball made of Time Vortex right on the console.

He would, however, eventually know he was only wearing a shiny gold Speedo for the whole meeting.

* * *

Harry popped into Doctor Brown's dimension, inside an empty TARDIS. Harry relayed the pertinent details of what had happened, and the TARDIS expressed great pleasure with Harry's efforts and a mixture of irritation and amusement regarding the method for birthing her counterpart. She then told Harry where to find Donna, who had her memories of The Doctor and her travels suppressed.

Harry left the TARDIS, invisible, and entered the pleasant looking house it was parked outside. As he entered, he headed up the stairs while hearing Doctor Brown explaining how Donna would burn if she remembered her time on the TARDIS. Walking into Donna's bedroom, he thought about what the best prank would be. Remembering the TARDIS's description of the highly opinionated Donna Noble, Harry smiled and pressed his finger against the sleeping Donna's forehead and golden light suffused her body.

Harry stood silently and invisible in the corner as Donna's eyes sprung open. He watched her mutter curses towards The Doctor and stomp out of the room and down the stairs. He heard a loud shout of "Oy! Spaceman! What do you think you were doing!?", followed by "Donna? But, you're a… how… WHAT!?"

Harry smiled, and popped into the space between dimensions.


	5. Chapter 5 - Siriously GLAD

AUTHOR NOTE – Cross with Portal (video game)

Deep in the Department of Mysteries existed a room that was notable for a giant and ancient stone arch. The arch stood by itself, surrounded by a complete silence and stillness, save for the gentle movements of a decaying curtain hanging from the arch. The curtain seemed to move as if a gentle breeze caressed it, though no breeze existed. Not much was known about the curtain and arch, except that those who passed through the arch disappeared and would never return. It was believed that those who passed through the curtain were bodily sent to the realm of the dead. Such respect was given to this curtain that it was called the only thing a curtain should be called. It was called The Curta… no, sorry that would have made sense, it was called The Veil.

Whatever it was called, this poorly named piece of cloth could only be entered and never exited from, and Harry Potter was currently exiting from it with a picnic blanket and basket in hand.

Harry walked out of The Arch and looked around. This seemed like a wrong turn. He was somewhat certain he was looking for a good place to eat his early dinner (not that time really matters much when hopping dimensions whenever one gets bored) and was expecting something sunny. Or at least somewhere with a good show to watch. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to trust his subconscious (this was an iffy thing to do, as his subconscious was verifiably insane) and walked up to one of the stone benches that surrounded The Drape in the style of an old-fashioned courtroom (or a very modern courtroom in Magical Britain). Transforming the bench into a patch of sun dappled grass, he laid the blanket down and began his dinner. As he set out his steak, asparagus, potato, Jolt Cola Icee, and crazy straw, he tried to figure out why this room seemed familiar.

After spending 5 minutes pretending to be a vegetable vampire, with asparagus teeth, Harry vanished the asparagus as he felt the vegetable was only fit for use as a prop. He then started in on his perfectly cooked steak, while sipping on his Icee through a crazy straw that constantly changed shape and color. It was after the first bite that he realized why this place looked familiar. A door had just opened (Harry made himself invisible when the door opened) behind him and in walked the Local Harry Potter (who Dimensional Harry called Larry Potter) joined by the Local Luna Lovegood (Luna Lovegood, there was no Dimensional Luna, so no need to change names here), Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Ron Weasley. Dimensional Harry Potter (Dairy Potter as he liked to be called in these dimensional situations) watched as Larry and Luna examined The Natty Cloth until called back by Hermione. As the Local residents left, Dairy was left racking his brain to remember why this was significant. Something about… a missing puppy? Ah well, it would come to him. He continued his dinner.

As Dairy was finishing up his steak, he heard shouting and screams of panic and pain come from outside the room. He thought about getting up, but the steak was… really good. He finished off the last bite of the aforementioned delicious steak and was eyeing the potato when Larry ran into the room followed by a bunch of people wearing masks. Ignoring the potato for the moment, he leaned forward with his Icee and watched with interest as threats were flung back and forth, Neville burst in and was used as a hostage, and then familiar friendly adults appeared. There was Sirius, Remus, Rubber Face Lady, Kingy Shackles, and One Good Eye Moody (Dairy was certain he got all those names correct, while Tonks and Kingsley would have disagreed, and Mad Eye Moody would have conceded his changed name was an accurate description). So that must make the masked guys the Def Leppards for Folding-Chore (the Death Eaters and Voldemort would have disagreed with these names, but no one cares). Dairy knew this night! This was the night Sirius died! Dairy sat back with a smile for figuring out what was going on. Luckily, he processed the meaning of that thought before it was too late.

The fight progressed as Dairy vaguely remembered it went the first time. Curses flashing back and forth. Neville called out the entrance of the venerable Dubbledore (Dairy was pleased Neville yelled, while ignoring Neville's clearly broken nose). Dairy had to admit that this fight was much more exciting to watch as an observer.

He then watched as Sirius taunted his crazy cousin, Bellatrix-Rabbit, and she hit him with a curse. As he fell back towards The Window Treatment, Dairy wiggled his fingers and the curtain briefly turned orange as Sirius fell through. Next to Dairy a blue circle appeared on the sun-dappled grass, from which Sirius flew up and then landed roughly on the picnic blanket. Dairy casually stopped time as Sirius looked around and regained his senses.

Making himself visible to Sirius, Dairy spoke. "Hey Sirius, it's been a while"

"… James?"

* * *

Sirius blinked as he slowly looked around himself. The last he remembered was being hit by a curse from Bella, and then falling back towards The Veil, and then… he was apparently sitting outside on a picnic blanket on the grass while also sitting inside the room he was just fighting in. Looking around, he saw that all action had stopped in the room. Harry was mid-scream and being held by Remus. Most of the Death Eaters were bound in magical ropes, though the magic from Dumbledore's wand seemed frozen as well. It was like he was no longer a part of time, it was like he was … he fell through The Veil! He was…

"Hey Sirius, it's been a while"

Turning his head quickly, he saw that a man was now sitting next to him. A man who had not been there the last time he looked. The man had messy black hair, and the shine of a true prankster in his eyes. Sirius had a guess as to the man's identity. The man was a bit older than the last time Sirius saw him, but he supposed that there was nothing saying the dead couldn't look older than when they died.

"… James?"

The man (James?) cocked his head to the side and then shrugged slightly. "Sure, why not?"

"You're not James?"

"I just said I was"

"You're not James!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Duck Season!"

"What?"

The man smiled slightly. "Sorry, my mind went on a tangent there. Why do you think I am not James?"

"Your eyes are the wrong color for one, you look more like an older Harry"

The man's eyes instantly changed color. "There, they're no longer green. And Harry looks like a younger James, so it would make sense for me to look like an older Harry, were I James. Which I am totally claiming that I am!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, your eyes are no longer green. But James did not have eyes that were yellow and had smiley faces for pupils."

"Well, they don't look nearly as funny in hazel"

"… Fair point. You know what, if you're not James, I am sure he would be fine with you stealing his identity for a prank. So, I won't fight it anymore. Besides, I'm dead, so maybe this is just how the afterlife is."

The man grinned. "Oh, you're not dead"

"Oh… well then how do you explain…" Sirius the waved his hand towards the completely stopped world outside of the picnic area.

The man (who Sirius refused to call James inside his head) smiled. "Magic!"

Sirius snorted. "You got me there. So, you Magic-ed me here and Magic-ed time to a standstill, now why did you do all that Magic-ing for me?"

"That is an excellent question! There are two answers. First, I need you to annoy Hermione as much as possible."

"Why?"

"… Would you buy that she's the reincarnation of Lily?"

"Hermione was two when Lily died."

"… Lily didn't like procrastinating?"

"What's the real reason?"

"It will amuse George, and be funny"

"Sold! What's the second answer?"

"Second…" The man looked down at the picnic blanket and picked up his basket. Then, without an incantation, the basket transformed into a strange looking white ovoid shape with one end having an arm hole and the other end had what looked a camera lens with three prongs protruding from the tip like a demented three-legged spider. He tossed the object to Sirius, which Sirius deftly caught.

"Oooookay… and what do I do with this?"

"Well, you just… you know what, I really don't want to go though the tutorial with you. Hold on…" The man picked up his untouched potato and infused it with a golden light. He tossed the potato to Sirius, while conjuring odd metal springy leg braces on Sirius's legs. "She'll teach you"

Sirius looked at the potato. "The potato will teach me?"

The potato spoke in an oddly mechanical feminine voice. "Oh great, I'm a potato. Thank you for that. Sarcasm processor confirmed as operational"

The man grinned at the potato. "Teach Sirius how to use the Portal Gun there. If you get him back unharmed, then I'll provide you with a fully functional facility to perform all the Science you want."

The sarcastic spud paused for a moment before responding. "Will there be deadly neurotoxin?"

The man shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Sirius looked between the potato and the man. "Wait! What is going on? I'm not going anywhere until you explain exactly what is going on! I want to know right now!"

"Would you believe the potato is the reincarnation of Lily?"

Sirius gave his very best puppy dog eyes (well, the best he can give while not in his dog form). "Really, please just tell me."

"I'll tell you if you look down"

The man pointed down at the ground Sirius was standing on. Sirius looked down and saw he was hovering over an apparently endless pit. Sirius looked up at the man, looked down at the hole, looked up at the man and spoke in irritated and partially pleased tone. "That is so what James would do". Gravity then asserted itself and Sirius fell down the hole. He listened as the potato (who called herself GLADOS) berated him for being stupid, fat, of questionable parentage, overweight, dim, not skinny, and obese. Finally, they landed surprisingly softly in a sterile looking room full of cement walls and cubes.

GLADOS spoke up with an apparent sadistic glee. "Now, there is Science to be done!"

* * *

Once he completed his task, he returned to his picnic blanket that was sitting in front of The Unnecessary Drapery. Seconds later, a hole surrounded by blue light appeared on the ground, from which a laughing Sirius came flying up 20 feet into the air, before landing softly on the picnic blanket.

Sirius grinned from ear to ear, as he stroked GLADOS lovingly. "That was brilliant! GLADOS you are amazing!"

GLADOS replied. "And you are insert false praise here. Now, are my facilities ready?"

Dairy smiled in response, noting Sirius still gently stroking the potato that was attached to the Portal Gun, and GLADOS not objecting. "Of course, but I would imagine you would want to retrieve some test subject first, wouldn't you? The ones with snake tattoos and their leader should be fun. Maybe first give them a taste of the Science they will enjoy at the facility. Just have Sirius say 'lab' and the next portal will lead to the facility. When you get there, everything will be set to extract you from your potato."

Sirius, despite being in human form, began to wag his butt as if he had a tail. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Subjects are needed for Science, and for testing the effectiveness of deadly neurotoxin. Proceed with the attempt to move your corpulent body and collect new test subjects."

With that, Sirius shot an orange portal at The Oversized Dishcloth, and as he went to jump into the blue portal still on the ground he and GLADOS shouted in unison "For Science!"

* * *

Harry Potter (known as Larry to the slightly extremely moderately crazy dimension travelling Harry Potter) was panicking. Sirius, his godfather and the closest connection he had to his parents, had just been hit by a curse, fell through a stone arch, and disappeared. He needed to rescue Sirius, and Remus was holding him back from doing so. Even as he struggled, part of him knew that he had just lost the man. He already felt shock and rage filling his body.

It's likely that Harry would have started thinking darker thoughts, but his train of thought was jolted by Sirius flying back out of the arch holding a strange white gun (which had a potato connected to it). The train of thought completely derailed when Sirius yelled "It's Science Time, Bitches!" and the potato yelled an emphatic "Yeah!"

"Sirius?"

"Hey pup, we'll catch up later, but first I have to keep a promise I made to a sexy potato."

"…What?"

And with that, Harry watched as Sirius shot ovals of light on nearly every flat surface in the room. Soon, the Death Eaters were flying all around the room. Bellatrix was falling at terminal velocity as she plummeted from an oval in the ceiling, down to an oval directly below on the floor, and reappeared at the ceiling oval to repeat the process forever. She would occasionally scream in fright as the ovals would shift positions such that she would appear on a wall and rocket towards the arch before returning her to a free fall. Occasionally, for reasons Harry did not wish to know, Sirius would conjure lemons that were on fire and would explode when in proximity one of the airborne Death Eaters (causing Lucius Malfoy to permanently be bald and smelling lemony fresh). The potato seemed to really enjoy the combustible lemons.

Harry noticed that the rest of the Order of The Phoenix was staring at the show with great amusement and confusion. Remus's face was an inscrutable mix of emotions, which Harry didn't know was the exact face a Marauder makes when they are terrified for their life while simultaneously irritated that their best friend has come up with a prank that would take years to top. Harry also noticed Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny had popped into the room (he had no idea that a dimensional counterpart of his had healed all his friends to perfect health and brought them to the room to enjoy the show). Dumbledore stared at the whirlwind of Death Eaters flinging around the room at zany speeds, and deftly twisted his body out of the way of various flailing limbs, while Harry heard him mumble "maybe love isn't the power after all". The last thing Harry noticed when he glanced at the entrance, was a flummoxed and enraged Voldemort, which made Harry vaguely wonder why his scar didn't hurt. Then his brain caught up with the salient point of his observation.

"Sirius! Voldemort is here!" Harry yelled and pointed towards the Dark Lord of the hour.

Sirius sighed, and softly said "lab". At which point all the flying bodies disappeared the next time they entered a portal. "And we were having such a good time, oh well." Sirius then grinned and looked over at Harry, conjured a lemon meringue pie and tossed it over to him. "Hey Pup! Throw that pie at me!"

Harry, instinctually obeyed. He pulled back his arm. By the time the pie was about to leave his hand, Sirius had shot an oval on the floor in front of Harry and then one under Voldemort. Voldemort fell down into the hole where was he standing and popped up in front of Harry, so that he could intercept the pie. In other words, the pie splatted into the face of an extremely befuddled Anagram Based Dark Lord. With a quick spoken "lab", Voldemort fell back in the portal and disappeared.

Sirius looked at the room full of shocked faces, and then at one godson grinning like a loon. "If you all want to come and see Voldemort's new accommodations, feel free to jump in. Come on, pup, you're going to want to see this." With that, he shot another portal on the floor, looked at his potato and shouted, "To the lab, my sweet potato!" As Sirius jumped into the portal, Harry could have sworn the potato said something about testing deadly neurotoxin. With a shrug, Harry jumped in after his awesome godfather. Followed shortly by everyone else in the room, including an invisible Dairy Potter.

* * *

Lord Voldemort woke up on a bed in a completely spartan room. The last thing he remembered was the indignity of being smacked in the face with a pie and then falling into one of Black's mysterious ovals. He looked down to retrieve his wand and was worried when he realized that it was missing and that he could not feel his magic anymore. Additionally, he was wearing an orange jumpsuit and some odd metal springy bracers on his legs.

"Hello and, again, welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided enrichment center." A voice spoke, coming from no visible person. Lord Voldemort listened as it indicated that he would be some sort of test subject. Lord Voldemort was no one's subject. He smugly declined the requests of the voice for him to walk through an oval that had appeared in the room and firmly said that he would never be anyone's test subject.

"Warning!" The voice spoke after 5 minutes, "it appears as if deadly neurotoxin will accidentally fill your room in 30 seconds. Subject stupid anagram is advised to leave room and begin testing."

Lord Voldemort woke up on a bed in a completely spartan room. The last thing he remembered was refusing to leave this very room, and the room filling with a gas. He remembered his body shutting down and then dying quite painfully. He remembered his spirit rising from his corpse, preparing to flee and find his loyal followers. He remembered feeling a tug on his spirit, and then he was waking up on this same bed.

"Hello and, again, welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided enrichment center." The same voice spoke up. Lord Voldemort decided that he would… play along. How bad could it be?

Lord Voldemort woke up on a bed in a completely spartan room. The last thing he remembered was learning what a turret was, and that it was best avoided.

The last thing he remembered was that he should avoid falling in electrically charged water.

And fire pits.

And watch out for lasers.

And…

* * *

In the control room of Aperture Science, Sirius and Harry were laughing their heads off. Albus looked torn between amusement and disapproval. The rest of the Order were firmly in the amused category.

They watched as the captured Death Eaters struggled to use their Portal Guns (different from Sirius's gun, as their guns only could have one active orange oval and one active blue oval, while Sirius's gun had no such limitation), and failing miserably. In their cases, a safety portal would deliver them back to their own rooms.

They also watched as Voldemort died multiple times in quick succession, and then be resurrected in an inaccessible room. Robots would use an eternally regenerating collection of Father Bones, Servant Flesh, and Enemy Blood. Once resurrected, the reborn Dark Lord would be hit with knock out gas and then transported back to his room through a series of unnecessarily twisty and bumpy pneumatic tubes.

Dumbledore looked away from Voldemort's blight, and once again looked over at the equally inaccessible storage room, through its impenetrable glass windo. In the room sat seven distinct items. There was Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's Diadem, the petrified snake Nagini, Tom Riddle's diary (with basilisk fang sticking out of it), the Gaunt family ring (with a very familiar stone on it, that made Dumbledore very grateful for the impenetrable glass preventing him from succumbing to the temptation to use it), and a permanently preserved inflamed lightning bolt scar on a piece of forehead skin (seeing Harry's unblemished forehead fill Dumbledore with joy). Dumbledore didn't know who Sirius's mysterious savior was, but he was certain that this meant that Voldemort was permanently neutralized (and Tom was now going to learn what he meant by there being worse things than death). For the first time in decades, he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. He then looked up and saw Voldemort's surprised look upon entering a room filled with a thousand turrets pointing directly at the entrance, and then Dumbledore finally laughed his head off as well.

* * *

Dairy Potter watched Dubbledore break down in laughter, and over at Hermione who was looking dumbly around the room with the familiar look on her face that all Hermiones have when their brain has broken. Feeling that his work was done, he prepared to leave and reclaim his name as Harry Potter again.

He would never be there to see Sirius using portals to setup a chain of remaining free Death Eaters falling off the astronomy tower of Hogwarts, rocketing down Diagon Alley, ping ponging through the Wizengamot, and performing a full tour of every magical site in the world as the equivalent of magical pinballs. He would never see Sirius receive a full pardon after Cornelius Fudge spent 30 minutes as a test subject. He would never know that a sneeze by Sirius would change his aim slightly and send Umbridge into orbit around the Moon. He would be unaware that Dumbledore spent his retirement working closely with GLADOS to invent even more interesting scenarios for Voldemort. Nor would he know that Remus would eventually one-up Sirius by modifying the resurrection ritual to give GLADOS a body. Nor would he see Remus's face when Sirius married the embodied GLADOS and had very scary children. Neither would he know how GLADOS, Sirius, Harry, Hermione and her army of Free House Elves would conquer the world and bring it to unknown heights of Science and Magic. And he definitely would never know that Voldemort continued to run increasingly complex and longer tests until the heat death of that dimension finally brought the tests and Voldemort to an end.

He didn't know what the future held, but he was happy. With a smile, Dairy Potter set down a going away present, and then disappeared with a shout of "This was a triumph!"

Everyone looked over at the source of the shout, but only saw a brown object on the floor.

Dumbledore walked over and declared, "it's a cake." He picked it up, and noticed the texture felt off. Wiping away some of the frosting, he saw that it was just an oversized and oddly shaped green citrus fruit. He looked back at everyone in the control room with a perplexed look on his face, and then opened his mouth to speak.

"The cake is a lime?"


	6. Chapter 6 - Touched By An Angel

AUTHOR NOTE – Cross with Doctor Who

The Doctor was staring at the Weeping Angel in horror, feeling more helpless and broken hearted than he had in hundreds of years. Amelia (Amy) Pond and her husband, Rory Williams, were gone. They were gone, living in the past, and he could never see them again. He was a Time Lord, he had a TARDIS, he could travel from the start of the universe until its end, and yet he could never travel just a scant 75 years into the past due to the knot of brittle time filling that specific time and place.

Looking at the Weeping Angel, he briefly wanted to close his eyes and let it send him to the past with Amelia. The damn Weeping Angels, a race of murderous psychopaths who sent people back into the past with a touch. They would then feed off the person's remaining time energy, while the person lived their full life in the past. Their appearance was that of an unmoving stone statue when observed, for they were quantum locked beings, becoming stone when observed by a living being. But, when no one was watching, they would move swift and silent as the wind.

He had just saved Amelia and Rory from a time loop of being sent back in time over and over by the Angels, to live a life in a miserable Manhattan apartment. They broke the paradox, and they appeared in a New York City cemetery in the present. They were safe!

Within a minute of being saved, Rory looked down and saw his name on a headstone. History became set, written in stone, and with that an Angel appeared and sent him to the past. And then, to The Doctor's horror, Amelia chose to be taken into the past to be with her husband. The Doctor begged, pleaded, cajoled, and none of it worked. Both of his hearts were breaking and there was nothing he could do. Amelia's daughter was there, River Song (aka Melody Pond), a woman older than Amelia through time travel and regeneration. River was there, and she egged Amelia on, telling her it was the only way to be with her husband.

With that, Amelia (his Amy, his Pond) voluntarily let the Angel touch her and disappeared to the past. Looking down, the headstone now included Amelia's name. He had saved them, only to lose them forever.

With all the raw emotions warring within The Doctor's dual hearts, and the shock filling River's one heart, the pair of time travelers could be forgiven for not quite knowing how to respond when a dark-haired man came running into view laughing with childish glee. Perhaps they might have warned him to run away when he gleefully shouted "My turn! Tag! You're it!", followed by him tagging the Angel, frowning, turning around, and then disappearing into the past.

* * *

Harry Potter was annoyed.

He had just watched from a distance as the stone creature had tagged the young man with light brown hair and the young woman with red hair. From what he could tell, the man with dark hair was upset because he didn't want anyone to play, while the woman with frizzy hair wanted the red head to play the game. He thought everyone seemed overly emotional over a simple game, but he hadn't really been paying close attention to anything that was being said. He mainly was focused on his desire to play a game of tag, a game he had never played before in his life. So, he had ran at the stone creature to start playing, only to not be tagged in. But, once he turned around, he had found himself standing in the past. All of this didn't annoy him, that was the fun part.

The annoying part was coming.

Amy Pond was happy in a bittersweet way. It had taken a month of searching, but she had finally tracked down her husband. Luckily, while Rory Williams was a practical man who knew how to build the fake identity needed to create his new life, he was also a romantic who was hopelessly devoted to his wife. Every day he would spend an hour at the cemetery where he had been first sent back, and then another hour at the spot in Central Park where he had been relaxing with his wife before they first began their adventure with the Angels. Eventually, Amy's schedule intersected with Rory's schedule and the couple was reunited in a teary kiss in the middle of Central Park. It had been one month for Amy, and one year for Rory. Finally, they were together and would never part again. Perhaps they would never see the Doctor, their daughter River, or any other family, but they were together. That was what mattered the most. And so, they had begun their life together and the next year went by as smoothly as life can go for a couple who knew the attack on Pearl Harbor was coming in about a year and a half. It was a time of love and stress. But all the zany time traveling adventures were in the past. Then the doorbell rang.

The annoying part was close.

Rory Williams opened the door to his apartment to see a widely grinning man with dark hair, wearing blue jeans, a Teletubbies t-shirt, and a rainbow-colored propeller beanie. Before his mind could catch up with the anachronism in that outfit description, the man yelled "Tag!" and tagged Rory. He then giggled and bounded into the apartment. Rory then heard the man yell "Tag!" again, followed by his wife's equally loud yell of "Oi!" and the sound of a hand smacking a face, followed by an outraged "No Tag Backs!". Rory sighed, muttered "I really thought the zany adventures were done with", closed the door, and walked back to meet the intruder.

Here comes the annoying part.

Harry was ecstatic. He had found the first people in the game of tag. Admittedly, it had taken him a whole ten minutes to track them down, but that was because he decided to not apparate to reach the distinct time signature of the two players. He had tagged them both, and now he just needed to find the stone creature to win the round. That's when he discovered the horrible truth. The stone creature wasn't playing a game of tag. He had created and donned a perfect outfit for playing tag (the red head, while dubious of it being a perfect outfit for tag, asked Harry to magic up some clothes for her and the light-brown head), and the "Weeping Angel" wasn't even playing the game properly? He made an ever-spinning propeller beanie and the "Weeping Angel" was refusing to play along!?

Harry Potter was annoyed!

As Harry disappeared out of the home of the Williams, an inexplicable tremor of nervousness filled the entire race of Weeping Angels throughout all of space and time.

* * *

One second after the strange man in a propeller beanie had been sent back in time by the Weeping Angel, he surprisingly returned in the same spot and turned to face the Angel and began to berate it.

"Hey! When you set up a game of tag, you DO NOT bail on the game! I thought what you were doing was cool. You send the people back in time and force them to use their natural time travelling abilities and deduction skills to hunt each other down and then you as well. I mean, I've never played tag before, but your rules seemed clear. But, what do I discover? I find the light-brown head whose name sounds like a Scooby Doo name AND the red head whose name is like Army but with one letter removed, and they say that you had no intention of joining the game. Did you know that they don't even have natural time travelling abilities, so that they couldn't come back? You, sir, suck at playing games! I demand a proper rematch!"

Throughout this entire rant, River and The Doctor stared at the man in growing confusion, while the man stared unblinking at the Angel. Once the rant was completed, the man ran his hand over his face and eyes and promptly disappeared. And then promptly reappeared.

"That so doesn't count as a rematch!"

River and The Doctor, be reminded of the threat of the Angel, focused their vision on the Angel again.

River cleared her throat. "Would you mind, terribly, moving to the side so you aren't blocking our line of sight with the Angel?"

The man shrugged his shoulders, turned around, flickered in and out of time a few times, and finally cleared the line of sight.

River raised an eyebrow. "Thank you! Now, you mentioned see Rory and Amy. Is that right?"

The man looked confused. "Rory and Amy? Huh, I thought it was Raggy and Rmy." Shaking his head, as if dismissing the thought, he continued. "Your version sounds better, I'm pants at names. Would you be their daughter… Oh… I know this one… Melody?"

River smiled at hearing her birth name. "I go by River now"

"Ah, River Pond then. A real water theme you got going for yourself there."

"River Song"

The man's confused look returned. "If you insist. Let's see… Got it! Old Man River. That Old Man River…"

River stopped the man's off-tune singing. "No, I wasn't asking for you to sing a song about a river, River Song is my name."

"Ah, that's just as well, I really only know those specific words to the song. Let's see, then that means that the guy with the cool bowtie is… The Dentist!"

At this, The Doctor's face took on an expression of undiluted offense, while River looked like she had just been given the best present ever.

The Doctor took a moment to splutter out a response, which was a moment too long. River spoke up. "That's right, he's The Dentist. He sometimes lies about it and calls himself The Doctor, but his close friends know the truth and know that he is always joking when he complains and tells us not to call him The Dentist. And, as you are a friend of Amy and Rory, you count as a friend. So, call him The Dentist."

The man smiled, in response. "It's always nice to have friends"

River continued the conversation as The Doctor spluttered incoherently, while both kept their eyes firmly on the Angel.

"So, you said you met with Amy and Rory. How are they?"

"They're doing good. Apparently, a bit light on clothes, as they asked me to make them some outfits."

"Outfits?"

"Yeah, a male and female version of a Roman Centurion outfit. Also, a male and female version of a rather skimpy looking police uniform. I haven't spent much time in New York, so I figure it's an American thing"

River smirked. "I suspect it's more of a married couple thing"

The man (who River should probably learn the name of soon) looked thoughtful for a second, before his eyes widened a bit. "Then I should probably have included the self-cleaning and self-repair options to the outfits. One second". The man disappeared and reappeared with a rapidly healing red handprint on his face. "Well, that was rude. I managed to add the options to the outfits, but I would recommend leaving them alone when they are playing 'time traveling policeman and the helpful Lady Centurion'. Either way, I'm upgrading my assessment of they're doing good, to they're doing quite good."

The Doctor, his spluttering over, finally spoke up. "Stop that! You can't keep going back and forth to see them, you'll stress time too much and possibly destroy all of reality!"

The man gave The Doctor a look of exasperation. "Well, of course Time was stressed. She was horribly misused with a bunch of paradoxes and got all twisted into knots. But I gave her a quick shoulder massage and she was feeling right as rain."

"You can't give time a shoulder massage, time… doesn't have shoulders!"

"Well, obviously I first generated a flesh avatar for her to inhabit so that I could give the massage. We also had a nice Italian dinner before the massage, since that's just good manners. Once done, the avatar was vanished. And now the time period is clear for travel again. It's pretty simple. You should probably study time at some point."

River spoke up. "Do you often give shoulder massages to aspects of reality?"

"Not too often. I mean, Gravity prefers foot rubs."

The Doctor looked at the man, not sure if he was crazy. "Who are you?"

The man looked at The Doctor with an amused face, and then took on a serious tone. "Who am I? I'm Harry. I'm a fun-loving guy. I'm from the town of Little Whinging in the county of Surrey. I'm some number of years old and I'm the man who is going to teach this Angel a lesson and who knows nearly a full tenth of the lyrics to Baby Got Back. You got a problem with that?"

"What?"

"Look, I would love to stick around all day and tell you how to give a proper back scratch to the personification of Velocity, or swap lyrics to Sir Mix-A-Lot songs, but I still have to teach this Angel here a lesson about the right way to play with people. Oh, and I was asked to do something before that…"

Harry blinked away, returned with another slap mark on his face, muttered "like rabbits", blinked away, and returned with a bemused Amy and a blushing Rory. Their grave's headstone now had an addendum of "… JK LOL!"

As The Doctor felt his heart swell at seeing Amy and Rory again, Harry turned around to speak to the Angel. "Now, it appears that no one ever taught you the proper way to play with people. So, first things first, you need to stop this stone act."

Harry pointed his hand at the Angel, and a stream of golden energy flew into the stone creature. For the first time in the history of the universe, a Weeping Angel began to move while being observed (much to the horror of the observers).

"Now, you no longer feed off time energy, but instead you feed off the mild irritation and exasperation people feel when they get pranked. Also, you're no longer turn to stone when observed, but feel free to pretend if it adds to the humor of the situation. Now, it's time you learned how to stop being a Weeping Angel and become a Marauding Angel".

With that, Harry touched the Angel and disappeared.

A second later, they returned. Harry was laughing his head off, and the Angel was wearing a shirt with the phrase "I gave a T-Rex a wedgie and all I got was this stupid T-Shirt".

"Ah, Tronnie, you are one crazy Angel! I have taught you all I know, now go forth and do the Marauder name proud. Thanks for the proper game of tag!". The Angel then gave Harry a fist bump, Harry notably did not disappear.

Harry turned towards the observers. "It was nice meeting all of you. Time for me to move on. River, Amy, Rory, Dentist… take care!"

The time-traveling observers would encounter the Angels again in their adventures. Though Harry would never know that.

Harry would never know that his magic transformed all the Angels in existence into irritating pranksters who were no longer quantum locked, nor interested in killing. He would not be there to see Davros get a Wet Willy right in the middle of trying to manipulate a future regeneration of The Doctor. He would not see them put shoes on the Daleks, and then tie the shoelaces together. He would never see the multitude of times where Cybermen would be given swirlies in toilets all through space and time. He would not hear the number of times The Doctor would sigh in annoyance when they played the game of tapping his shoulder and disappearing. He would not see the countless times that Angels would appear outside of Amy and Rory's room, sporting massive slap marks and goofy grins. He would definitely never see them perform an elaborate prank involving a joy buzzer, a teleporter, and a rib-eye steak which would see River Song surviving her pre-determined death in The Library.

What Harry would know, however, was that he done his part to bring a little more stupid humor into the universe. That was more than enough.

Unaware of what the future held for him, The Doctor smiled as he watched a very confusing man disappear (accompanied by the sound one hears when opening a prank can of snakes). He turned around to face his friends who had been returned to him. His hearts bursting with joy, his smile spreading from ear to ear. And said the one thing he felt most appropriate for the moment.

"He said my bowtie was cool!"


	7. Chapter 7 - Goblet of Firey Names

Harry Potter popped into reality and immediately felt a skewed sense of nostalgia. He couldn't quite place why the nostalgia was intruding upon his senses, but he couldn't deny its existence. The room was vaguely familiar, but it was like he was looking at it in a completely new manner. He sat down on the floor and took in his surroundings. The walls looked familiar, except the windows were a bit low to the floor. The floor was the night's sky, so nothing familiar there. The ceiling was populated by upside down tables, chairs, people, a podium, and a cup full of fire hanging from the podium. Oh…. He had it! He was in… nope he didn't have it… it was right on the tip of his tongue.

"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum" said an elderly voice from the ceiling. That really struck a chord with him. Something from his youth, maybe? Looking up at the ceiling again he saw everyone clapping and noticed one of the kids had a real rat nest of black hair. He idly pitied the boy as while running his own hand through his own squirrel nest of black hair. Wait! Now he had it! Was he in… Detroit? Did Detroit have castles?

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour" said the elderly ceiling man. Fleur? Was he in a greenhouse of some sort? Man, Neville would have thrown a fit to see a greenhouse in this state. I mean, the sky is in the floor and that can't be a good thing for growing plants. Looking back up, he noticed that a young Neville was sitting near the rat nest kid, oh and there was Hermione and Ron. Neat! Looking around, it seemed like the whole Hogwarts gang was here. What were they doing on the ceiling of a greenhouse that looked like an upside-down version of the Hogwarts Great Hall? Wait…

"The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory" said the elderly voice from, what Harry now suspected was, the floor. Harry thought of following gravity's suggestion of dropping down from the ceiling to the floor, but he was feeling lazy and decided to ignore the suggestion. Instead, he conjured a massage chair and relaxed to watch an upside version of the champion selection for the Triwizard Tournament. Assuming this reality was like his original one, he expected one more name to be called.

As expected, (well expected by the one person who had lived through this exact scene previously and the one Polyjuiced Professor who had instigated the scene, so "unexpected" would probably be a better word), another slip of parchment shot out of the Fire Cup (Harry felt certain there was another name for the object).

"Harry Potter" said the old man (was his name Crumble Store?). As the hall went silent, the dimensional Harry (Dairy Potter) shot an invisible stream of golden magic at the Combusting Container.

"Harry Potter" repeated the man in a louder voice. Rat nest kid, which Dairy now realized was Local Harry (Larry Potter) got up and started to walk towards the old man (Jersey Shore? Why could he never remember the name?). Dairy noticed the angry looks on the faces of most of the students and staff, and then noticed Fred and George Weasley looking on with concern. The twins found themselves instantly transported to the ceiling, sitting in very comfortable upside-down loungers, holding endless bags of delicious popcorn, and sitting next to a man who looked like an older crazier version of the miserable young man making his way to Professor Dumbledore.

* * *

"Hello George and George, I thought you might enjoy a better seat to enjoy the festivities"

The twins looked at the man who had the familiar gleam of a madman (or prankster) in his eyes, thought about being cautious, ignored that thought, and replied.

"I'm not George, I'm Fred"

"No, I'm Fred, you're George!"

"No, you were Fred yesterday afternoon, so you get to be George now"

"But it's Halloween and I was George at 4:01 PM, so you're on the schedule for George"

"Au contraire my less attractive twin…"

The conversation continued like this for quite some time, the man just smiling away at the back and forth of the two brothers. After about half an hour, the twins trailed off and finally one of them (George probably) looked up and noticed that the world around them was completely frozen. The man finally spoke up. "Only Georges get the good seats. Freds sit in the cheap seats, with no popcorn. So, before I unfreeze time, who is George?"

The twins looked at each other for a moment and responded in unison. "I am!"

"Great, now let's start the show. Feel free to give suggestions."

Not sure what to make of that, the twins looked up at the floor and took a simultaneous bite of popcorn as they watched time reassert itself.

* * *

As Harry (he didn't know that he had now been renamed Larry by an insane alternate of himself) made his way to Professor Dumbledore, he felt his heart sinking. He had so hoped that this year would be normal, but now he was destined for another hellish year. A passing thought occurred to him that Dumbledore would fix this, but his past years indicated his luck would not run that way. Taking in a glance of the people in the hall told him that no one would believe he didn't cheat, the familiar glares of hate from second year had made a comeback, now with an international flair. He also had a bad feeling that the look of anger in Ron's eyes was not directed in Harry's favor. Right before he reached Dumbledore, he paused when the Goblet of Fire relit with a strange golden flame and another piece of parchment flew out.

A surprised Dumbledore caught the paper and read it out loud to the hall.

"Ronald Weasley?"

"WHAT!? Blimey, thanks Harry!" shouted an excited Ron to a wincing Harry. As Ron started to make it his way up to Dumbledore, Harry heard whispers about "cheating Gryffindors", heard Malfoy shouting something along the lines of "typical Scarhead", and caught an angry glare of Snape from the corner of his eye who was probably muttering something about expulsion. Before Ron reached Harry, the Goblet relit and produced another parchment.

"Draco Malfoy"

Draco Malfoy barely was able to shout out "WHAT!? When my father hears about this…" before another name appeared.

"Hannah Abbott"

A shocked fourth year Hufflepuff yelled, "But I would never cheat!"

Another burst of flame, "Cho Chang"

A pretty girl from the Ravenclaw table that Harry fancied yelled out "No! Cedric, I didn't do it! Tell Cedric it's a mistake!" followed by breaking down into tears. Harry found himself fancying the girl a bit less.

At this point, the students at the two other schools started getting louder and were hurling aspersions at Hogwarts, after all Hogwarts now had… was it six… six champions while their own schools had only one a piece.

Another burst of flame, "The French girl with curly blonde hair". One girl from Beauxbatons stood up tentatively. "No, the one two seats to your left". The indicated girl stood. "Yes, that's the ticket".

Madame Maxine, the headmistress for Beauxbatons angrily spoke. "My students have names, Dumblydore!"

A weary Dumbledore sighed in relief when the Goblet stopped popping out names, then replied to the angry headmistress while handing her the slip of parchment. "My dear lady, please read the parchment".

Madame Maxine looked at the parchment and read out loud, "The French girl with curly blonde hair. No, the one two seats to your left. Yes, that's the ticket". She looked up at a bewildered Barty Crouch and asked, "Surely, this cannot be binding, non?" Barty just shrugged helplessly.

Albus turned back to the student body. "Well, there appears to have been some… issues with the Goblet of Fire. I assure you all that we will get to the bottom of this and… Oh! For Merlin's Sake!"

Another burst of fire and, "The guy from Durmstrang with the best facial hair. Yep, you! Bitchin'"

Another burst, "Luna Lovegood's left earring. Yep, that is the right one"

A spacey blonde Ravenclaw stood up and began to remove her left earring. "Oh dear. Well, at least I have one remaining". When she placed the earring on the table, people were shocked when it stood up on its own and began hopping down towards Dumbledore.

More fire, "Luna Lovegood's right earring. That is to say, the earring that is left"

"Oh, poo!" People were less surprised after the removed earring bounced its way down to Dumbledore. Luna was pleasantly surprised when a bowl of pudding appeared in front of her, which changed her downtrodden look into a radiant smile.

A touch of immolation, "Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle". A large flash appeared in front of the Goblet and the fictional star of a wizarding comic book came into existence. Many of the students raised in the Wizarding World found themselves torn between shock and wanting to get an autograph.

Dumbledore stared at the Goblet as it ejected another name. He conjured a chair (but didn't notice that it was an exceptionally comfortable black massage chair) and sat down before reading the name. He suspected this was going to be a long night.

* * *

Three hours later, and the hall was packed (though no one noticed it had expanded quite a bit to accommodate everyone). By this time, every student, professor, student family member, student pet, government official, a few more inanimate objects made sentient, and several fictional characters made real had been picked by the Goblet. Those who were not present had found themselves magically transported to the Great Hall (or created from nothing for those who were previously fictional). There was even a chalk board in front of the transport point that explained the situation so that people stopped having to answer questions. The initial excitement had faded to boredom, and soon most everyone was falling asleep. Albus, had long since found the massage feature of his chair and enjoyed it greatly. Had he thought about it, he would have wondered why he had not fallen asleep yet. Indeed, the only people awake were Albus, a dimensional traveler, and two Weasley twins sitting on the ceiling (though Albus was unaware of anyone else being awake). And the twins were starting to fade.

Fire, "Three monkeys sitting on each other's shoulders and wearing a trench coat, so they can pretend to be a grown man and attempt to get into an R rated movie". Flash of light and three monkeys appeared. The middle monkey began to whistle nonchalantly from the belly of the trench coat.

Flame, "A Llama, surprisingly skilled in magic, named George". Flash of light and a llama wearing wizarding robes with an eye-watering pattern that Albus idly memorized so that he could use the pattern later for himself. The llama made a cryptic statement of "here we go again" and wandered off to find some fruit.

With two identical smiles, smiles that one can only see on two pranksters who have feasted at the pranking buffet of life and for the first time have felt completely full, the twins drifted off to the sight of George the Llama nibbling on some fruit and then lying down for a nap next to a sprawling Luna Lovegood.

As Dairy watched the twin Georges fall asleep (the monkeys being their final suggestion to the marathon prank session), he felt that the audience of just Albus (after several hours, he had finally learned the name) was insufficient and it was time to move on. Before leaving, he noticed Larry lying down with his friends, and with a small smile and a shrug he directed some magic at the Receptacle of Amazon Fire (he still hadn't learned the name of the artifact).

* * *

A tired Albus Dumbledore barely noticed the next lick of flame was in the shape of a smiley face, and in a tired voice read the next parchment. "Sirius Black, temporarily silenced, holding rock solid evidence of his innocence that even the most corrupt official will accept". A bright flash later, Sirius Black stood in the Great Hall holding a folder labeled "Seriously Rock Solid Proof".

Albus's eyebrows knit together. He felt like he missed something important just then. Ah well, his massage chair was too comfortable to care. Some more flame, and "A person who can be trusted with power, holding a self-updating book containing all the plans, ideas, information, and blackmail material necessary to successfully purge the dark from British Magical Society". A bright flash, and recent Hogwarts graduate Penelope Clearwater stood there with a book labeled "Penny's Good Sense". Penelope looked around in confusion, opened the book, her eyes widened, and she became instantly absorbed in her reading.

Albus looked at Penny and … was that Sirius? What did Albus miss? More fire and parchment. "The Prophecy". Albus's eyes widened as a familiar prophecy orb with a familiar label appeared on a newly conjured side table next to his massage chair. The orb glowed tauntingly, indicating it had yet to be fulfilled. A reminder of the inevitable confrontation between Harry and Voldemort.

A fully awake Albus watched as the next parchment flew towards his hand, his mind whirling with possible explanations for the evening's events. His eyes bugged out as he read the next parchment. "Tom Riddle's soul containers with magical arrows pointing to the soul fragments". A long table appeared next to the end table, supporting a frozen snake, a cup, a ruined diary, a ring, a diadem, and a locket. Arrows floated over all the items except the ruined diary that Harry had destroyed in his second year. Breaking Albus's heart, an arrow floated over Harry Potter's scar. He had feared Harry was a horcrux, and this seem to confirm his fears.

Before plans on how to deal with this magical gift of horcruxes, another parchment landed in his hands. Albus spoke with a shaky whisper. "Tom Riddle, moments before truly regretting splitting his soul, and his nanny". Peter Pettigrew appeared in front of Albus, holding an incredibly ugly and deformed baby. Albus noted an arrow now floating over the baby. His body already pumping with adrenaline, Albus quickly stunned Peter and the baby went flying high up in the air.

Albus saw the baby containing Voldemort fly high over the table holding the horcruxes. He saw the panic in the baby's eyes as it saw the horcruxes. He heard the baby mutter, "I should have found a different method". With awe, he saw the baby glow slightly red as all the floating arrows flew away from the objects and Harry's scar, and towards the baby on its descent. The arrows merged into one arrow pointing at the baby as it hit the ground with an unpleasant splat, right next to Harry's head. With shock, he saw a still sleeping Harry's body flail in reflex to the splat and Harry's left hand smacked away the baby. With hope building, he saw the Harry's handprint on the baby turn bright red, burst into flame, and incinerate the body within seconds. With overwhelming joy, he looked over at the prophecy orb and saw its glow fade away to nothing. The prophecy was fulfilled, Voldemort was truly dead, and Harry wasn't even awake to know the horror of having to kill. With surprise he realized that Sirius had been focused on Peter, Penelope on her book, and so Albus had been the only one to see the demise of Tom Riddle. Albus felt years younger and felt like singing in joy.

The Goblet spat out another parchment piece, and an exhilarated Albus caught it happily. "A button that, when pressed, will end the tournament and dissolve all contracts with the participants." A six-inch button appeared in Albus's hand. Before pressing the button, he noted that it had two words written on it. As he pressed the button, he spoke the written words. "Mischief Managed".

Once pressed, Albus heard a joyful laugh from the ceiling and saw a strange man (who looked like an older Harry) free fall into the Goblet. The fires of the Goblet splashed across the entire room like water, covering every champion. The fires could be seen burning away small threads of golden magic connecting the champion to the Goblet. Within a minute Albus could feel all the magic from the cup dissipated and the flame disappeared for good, as everyone awoke. Later investigations would reveal that all the magical contracts had indeed been dissolved and that the Goblet of Fire was completely drained of magic (never to be lit again).

No one would truly know who the mysterious stranger had been, nor would the stranger ever know the consequences of that evening. He would never know that Harry finally got to move in with Sirius and live the happy life he always wanted. Nor that Penelope Clearwater cleaned up the Magical World within 4 months, becoming the youngest and longest sitting Minister of Magic. Nor that Luna's earrings would become a crime fighting duo feared by criminals throughout the worlds. Nor that the Weasley twins would spend two full days upside on the ceiling until George the Llama used his surprising magical skills to undo the magic that even Dumbledore could not undo. Nor that George the Llama would travel to Peru with Luna Lovegood, vanquish a local Dark Lord, then eventually the duo would return to become Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. And he definitely would never know that Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle, would be the key to uniting the magical and non-magical worlds into a Golden Age lasting over a hundred thousand years.

Sadly, the three monkeys never managed to get into an R Rated movie.


	8. Chapter 8 - Babylon High Five

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossover with Babylon 5

Harry Potter could be described as many things and had been by his old friend Hermione. He was extremely powerful, extremely silly, and extremely extreme. What he was not, was a man who liked being bored. And right now, he was bored.

He wondered what he had done to his subconscious to deserve such a fate. As he had been rushing in the void between dimensions, feeling the intense sensations one feels as every part of their essence is being stretched to the bounds of infinity while simultaneously being scrunched into the size of one particle of light (it should be noted that normal dimension hoppers have fairly calm dimensional transitions, Harry transitioned like this because it felt nifty), he decided he wanted to check out space. He hadn't really done anything in space. Every journey had been on a version of Earth. If Earth was cool, then SPACE had to be awesome! So, he decided on a SPAAAAACE Adventure, and let his thrice-damned subconscious (it should also be noted that one should not damn one's own subconscious, they don't like that) choose a place to pop into reality.

Where he popped into existence was a Space Station. It even had a cool name, Babylon 5. Everyone knew that if you applied numbers to … spaaaaacccccceeeee … you automatically had something cool. But it was not even remotely cool. It was basically a government building with living quarters. While the aliens were alright to look at, they were not fun to listen to. So far, all the conversations he had overheard were things like "trade regulations", "retaliatory embargos", and "do you mind, we are having a private conversation about trade regulations leading into retaliatory embargos". All boring, nothing exciting. At this point, he had just taken to following the smarmy looking guy who had two giant invisible aliens following him. They looked like someone did a poor job of transfiguring a spider into a crab, and then spray painted the result with a shiny black coating. He hoped that invisible aliens meant something interesting was coming. So far, his hopes were not coming to fruition.

So much potential for fun, and yet the potential refused to be realized. He had been feeling this disappointment since he first arrived. He had such high expectations of the alien who wore armor that looked like someone put a flashlight on top of a hemorrhoid pillow and then draped a curtain with lights around the whole thing. Because, come on, someone who wore something like that had to be fun. After all, he had seen the alien's actual form. The alien's native form was an electrical storm pulsing with a mental energy that tried to project false images in his mind, and that was freaking cool. Anything that cool, wearing armor so lame it had to be a prank, had to have a sense of humor. It appeared that Harry had been wrong.

* * *

Earlier

Kosh Naranek, ambassador to the Vorlons, always enjoyed his time in his quarters. When moving about amongst the people of Babylon 5, he had to wear his encounter suit. While he allowed others to believe it was for life support, it was so that the people would not be affected by the psychic field his essence projected. If others were to see him outside the suit, they would not see his true form, they would see their own interpretations of what an angel was. Revealing their forms to the lesser races was strictly forbidden by his people. They didn't want others to start believing that the Vorlons were angels. They had of course posed as angels to the younger races, but they didn't want that to be known.

If a being of pure energy could sigh, Kosh would have sighed at this point. Angels and Demons, Vorlons and Shadows, it was an old game that he had long grown tired of. For millions of years, the two ancient races of Vorlons and Shadows had acted as caretakers to the galaxy. Long ago, when all the other ancient races had decided to go explore beyond the edge of the galactic rim, the Vorlons and Shadows had volunteered to shepherd the younger races to take over the galaxy from the ancients. Within a scant few hundreds of years, they had begun to disagree on the best approach.

The Shadows believed in growth through conflict and focused in on the idea that a people needed to know what they truly want, so that they could progress (hence the Shadows constantly asking the question, "What do you want?"). They eventually took on the roles of demons, encouraging the baser instincts of pursuing desire over all other things.

The Vorlons believed in growth through self-reflection and focused in on the idea that people needed to know who they truly were, so that they could progress (hence the Vorlons constantly asking the question, "Who ae you?"). They eventually took on the roles of angels, encouraging the higher instincts of pursuing enlightenment over all other things.

In the end, both races long since forgot their roles as shepherds. They were more focused on winning the debate. Through the many millennia, so many races were used as props in their grand debate and eventually went extinct for their troubles. Kosh was one of the few of his people who just wanted to walk away and leave the younger races to fend for themselves (history showed that the "help" of Shadows and Vorlons was less than beneficial).

It was during this period of introspection that he heard something odd. Someone was singing, but it was coming from everywhere and nowhere. In the center of his room, a figure began to fade into existence as the song progressed.

"Space space space, spacity space space space, spacity spaaaaaaaace. SPACE!"

As the song concluded, the figure solidified while pumping its fist in the air. It appeared to be a human.

Falling back on centuries of instinct, Kosh rushed into his encounter suit and asked the normal question that all Vorlons ask.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Harry, and you? Oh, and your light form is neat!"

Once again, Kosh fell back on instinct. It was common to ignore the answer of a name. After all, one was more than a name. He asked again.

"Who are you?"

"I… am… Harry. Are you OK?"

Kosh felt disappointment. Another individual who was not enlightened. Still, the oddness of this Harry deserved giving him another chance to show that he understood himself to be more than a name.

"You do not understand. WHO are you?"

"I AM HARRY! Look, if you are trying to ask something else, then maybe you should ask something else. Don't blame others for your incompetence at asking questions."

Kosh could tell that Harry was starting to get a bit annoyed. Perhaps there was even some merit to the idea that asking the same question repeatedly was not an effective means of communication. On the other hand, Kosh was known as a bit of jokester amongst his people, so he couldn't resist pushing a little bit further.

"Who are you?"

As he saw Harry narrow his eyes, Kosh felt that perhaps Vorlon humor didn't translate all that well.

* * *

Now

As Harry followed the man (Mr. Morden) and his crab-spider compatriots, he was beginning to get annoyed again. So far, he had only seen Mr. Morden talk to ambassadors and repeatedly ask, "What do you want?". The crab-spiders (criders?) stayed silent and invisible.

Once again, Mr. Morden approached yet another alien in a bland hallway. This alien looked human but had fantastic hair standing up around the back of his head like peacock feathers. And, once again, Mr. Morden asked, "What do you want?" and was dismissed by the alien (Mr. Morden called him "Ambassador" but no other name). Mr. Morden followed Ambassador Cool Hair into a bland elevator and asked his stupid question two more times and was dismissed both times (the last time saying he wanted to be left alone). The elevator doors opened, and they walked into another bland hallway. Mr. Morden went to prod Ambassador Cool Hair one more time. At this point, Harry was tired of the question. Harry was tired of the blandness. Harry was tired of the boring station and wanted to have some fun before he left.

Mr. Morden asked the departing Ambassador Cool Hair, "Is that it, is that really all Ambassador?"

Ambassador Cool Hair sighed and turned around to respond, "All right! Fine! You really want to know what I want?"

Unfortunately, Mr. Morden never got a chance to find out what Ambassador Cool Hair wanted. Instead he and Ambassador Cool Hair found themselves standing on a stage in the middle of the central marketplace of the station. Oddly enough the stage then expanded into a full stadium sized amphitheater. Every inhabitant of the station found themselves teleported to the theater and seated in comfortable chairs (each designed to maintain their individual biologic and atmospheric needs). Large displays were available, so everyone could clearly see the action on the stage. While some of the audience members were initially concerned, a wave of calming energy removed their worries and they just watched the stage with rapt attention.

Music began to pipe into the theater, and Mr. Morden began to sing at Ambassador Cool Hair, as his bland suit transformed into a shiny sequined unitard with shear red leggings.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want"

Before Ambassador Cool Hair could answer, four spider-crabs (spabs?) appeared. Although the audience had no idea that two of them had been teleported from half-way across the galaxy. The spabs (Harry decided that was the best name) were each dressed differently. One was dressed in a white dress, another in a green tank top with workout pants, another in an orange tank top with blue track pants, and the last one in a stylish (some would say posh) black mini-dress.

One of the spabs (with the green top) sang the next lyric.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want"

Mr. Morden advanced onto Ambassador Cool Hair and pushed him into a chair on stage as he sang. The rest of the spabs dancing their hearts out.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want. I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha). I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah!"

* * *

When Mr. Morden and the Spabs finished their song, they ran off the stage to tumultuous applause. Ambassador Cool Hair, who had sat through the song in shock, blinked a few times and then stood up to chase after them.

As the applause died down, and the audience started to come out of their state of pleasant calmness, they all saw a young human male with messy black hair and inhumanly green eyes. The main thing that pulled their notice was the fact that he was clapping the loudest, and he was levitating in mid-air. Those nearest to him heard him mutter "maybe space kids are more fun", before he disappeared to the sound of an ethereal rendition of "MmmBop".

* * *

Commander Sinclair (the man in charge of Babylon 5) had been making his way to the mysterious floating man, figuring he was probably the instigator of the recent chaos. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if he had known Harry), he made it to the young man's location right when the black-haired youth disappeared.

Speaking over the slow and mournful sound of "Mmmbop, ba duba dop", Commander Sinclair said, "Who was that man? What the hell did he do to my station!?"

From behind him, the familiar musical tones of Ambassador Kosh's speech patterns sounded.

"A liar speaks with a bald face."

Used to the way Kosh spoke in riddles, Sinclair pressed the Vorlon for more.

"Then, who was he?"

"He is…"

Kosh then bent down (which the suit should have made impossible) and then straightened up. He was oddly now wearing sunglasses over the iris of the single eye of his suit.

"… Harry!"

From all around, a thrumming music started up. Soon Commander Sinclair heard singing. "Whooooo are you? Who, who, who, who?".

Commander Sinclair sighed.

* * *

Harry Potter would never know how much he changed the future of that universe. He would never know that Morden and The Shadow Girls became the most popular musical group in the galaxy, with Ambassador Molari (aka Ambassador Cool Hair) becoming their manager. Nor that the Shadow race would redefine their purpose as creating the most mind-blowing songs in history. Nor that Kosh Naranek would become the most sought-after Crime Scene Investigator in the universe. Nor that the Vorlon race would redefine their purpose as writing puns for every possible crime scenario that Kosh would encounter.

He certainly hadn't realized that every person who had previously made a deal with The Shadows now would sing what their deal was when asked the question "What do you want?". It was, however, quite a surprise to the Earth Alliance Vice President and his accomplices when he found himself singing a full confession to his plans to assassinate the President.

Harry Potter didn't know any of this. All he knew was that he felt very hopeful when he arrived in a new universe surrounded by kids (aliens and humans) wielding swords made of light. Hopefully these kids would be fun, despite being dressed like mini-monks.


	9. Chapter 9 - Jedi Babies

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossover with Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker brooded evily (as opposed to his many other types of brooding over the years, and don't even get him started on his brooding about sand, I mean, it's coarse and rough and… well just don't get him started) as he marched through the halls of the Jedi Temple. The sounds of screaming and fighting filled the air as he made his way to complete his grim mission.

It was hard to believe that just that very morning he had woken up brooding about being a Jedi in a forbidden marriage. He was married to a beautiful woman who was pretty chill about his whole obsession with sand and his current tally of 2005 ways in which it is the worst (to be fair, 1973 of the ways are just alien synonyms for coarse). Why couldn't the Jedi just be more understanding of his need to ignore all their rules whenever he wanted, he brooded questioningly. Sure, they ignored their rules for him when they initially let him join the Jedi order. They also ignored their rules, when they raised him through the ranks at a recklessly fast rate. And they consistently turned a blind eye to his constant insubordination. They also ignored some of their most sacred rules when they gave him a seat on the Jedi Council decades before anyone else had ever been given the seat. But, those hidebound Jedi, they had yet to approve of his secret marriage of which they were unaware. Yes, it was hard to believe that very morning he was brooding on the unfairness of the Jedi to deny his secret marriage when he was the epitome of the Light Side, and now here he was completely devoted to the Dark Side of the Force and obeying the will of his new master the Galactic Emperor Palpatine / Sith Lord Sidious.

"I was never able to be an emotionless drone, like the Jedi wanted me to be", brooded the newly minted Sith Apprentice.

It should be noted that Anakin's understanding was a vast simplification of the Jedi's teachings. The full lesson was closer to accepting emotions but learning to not let them rule your behavior. After all, if they had kept with that simplified lesson then hardly any Jedi would have been able to handle the high and low emotions off extreme situations and would end up doing something stupid (like, hypothetically obsessing over and stalking the first pretty girl they happen to meet as a 6 year-old child, and then thinking the key to seduction is a treatise on how sand gets everywhere). Unfortunately for the Jedi, Anakin found the lessons on emotional control to be boring, so he listened with half an ear while thinking about how to make his acrobatics look kick-ass.

"The Jedi have always said there is no coming back from the Dark Side, so I shall embrace it fully", the Dark Dude brooded with an evil smirk.

Another note should be made at this point to state that this is another simplification of the teachings of the Jedi. The true lesson was more about how the taint of darkness will always mark your soul, but redemption is possible. They mainly told the younglings that there is no coming back from darkness because it takes some maturity to understand the shades of gray. After all, if there was no coming back, then 90% of the Jedi would be Sith after acting in anger when they went through puberty. Anakin found these deeper lessons on morality to be boring, and so was more focused on the best way to look casually awesome while holding his lightsaber.

"The Jedi would never let me stay with my secret wife and child. I must think of my child! I must save my child! Welp, time to go kill a bunch of children"

As a final note, Anakin was tuned out for almost every class involving learning words (like, "self-awareness", "irony", "hypocrisy", and "Duuuuuuuude! Really, Dude?").

Anakin left the Clone Troopers behind him as he entered the room holding the younglings. The younglings who would one day become Jedi themselves, and therefore had to be neutralized as a threat. He found it somewhat odd that the chairs in the room had been pulled into a large circle, with a large blanket covering the top of the circle. It looked vaguely like a tent in the center of the room. No matter, his senses told him that the younglings were hiding in the tent.

Two young children exited the tent.

The first child, a boy with dirty blonde hair, of probably 7 years of age, approached Anakin with worry in his voice and seemingly incredibly innocent (some might say suspiciously innocent). "Master Skywalker! There are too many of them, what are we going to do?"

Anakin took a breath and allowed the evil to fill his soul. He angled his hand towards the ground, and then lit his lightsaber with a slight flick of his wrist downwards (totally nailing his "cool lightsaber stance #8"). The youngling took a step back in response.

The second youngling took a step forward and Anakin felt a moment of surprise. Instead of looking concerned or scared, the youngling looked… curious. Anakin stared into the bright green eyes of the youngling with black messy hair, and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The boy cleared his throat and pointed to a previously unseen sign posted next to the tent's entrance. The boy then grabbed the other child's hand and they both walked back into the tent.

Anakin blinked, read the sign, and chuckled darkly. As he walked towards the tent's entrance, he idly wondered when the Jedi had allowed the younglings to play games like this. Still, he was a Sith, he was hardly going to be stopped by a crudely written sign that said "Kids Only! No Adults Allowed!"

* * *

Harry Potter was finally having fun in space. Well, to be fair, he was currently on an alien planet instead of a spaceship. But it had aliens and wasn't an Earth, so it was close enough. Also, it wasn't like he couldn't visit space whenever he wanted.

Things were initially threatening to be boring after an exciting start. When he had first arrived, there had been several kids dueling with swords made of lasers that made nifty sounds that really made him want to mimic said sound with his mouth.

"Vruuuuuum! Woooommmm! Wooooommm! Kssssssh!"

Harry was not one who often ignored his wants.

The kids (and the adult instructor) turned towards the sound, and saw a grown man waving a blue plastic sword around while making sounds that seemed to roughly mimic a lightsaber. Two of the kids struggled to suppress their grins as the man flailed about the room like a droid wearing the wrong limbs who has somehow learned the trick to making droids drunk.

The instructor, Jedi Buzzkill (possibly not his real name), was not as amused. The galaxy was at war, and they could ill afford to be incautious with their security. He was a highly trained Jedi, and he wasn't going to take stupid chances. Letting a stranger among the younglings would be as stupid as assaulting the Head of State for the Republic without first neutralizing the threat posed by his absolute control of the massive Republic military. Or possibly rushing into the seat of power of a Sith Lord with a minimal strike force. No Jedi would possibly be that stupid, and Jedi Buzzkill was not an idiot.

"Sir!" Jedi Buzzkill spoke in his most authoritative voice. "I must demand that you stop what you are doing and come with me so I might escort you to speak with the guards".

Harry looked at the man, and despaired. It would figure that there would be someone who would want to suck all the joy out of laser swords. He then looked over at the kids who were watching him and despaired further (would that be despairingly despaired?) when they all seemed completely stoic. He was about to instantly jump universes, when he saw one of the kids bite her lower lip in an effort not to smile. Harry smiled. The adult may be a dud, but the kids might be up for having fun if they were to free to do so.

After watching the stranger wave his hand, Jedi Buzzkill realized that he was late for his vacation that had apparently been booked and approved months ago. He suddenly remembered that this new person was a civilian instructor, so he left the younglings in his care (oddly enough, every other Jedi completely forgot when it was their turn to check in on the younglings). Within two hours Jedi Buzzkill was off for his vacation on the fabulous swamp planet of Dagobah (perhaps it should be noted that this vacation turned out to not be as fabulous as one would imagine a swamp planet vacation would be, especially for a member of an alien race who is most comfortable in arid locales).

Harry then smiled at the children and approached them. With each step, Harry grew younger until he was an excitable 7-year-old child.

"OK gang, time to learn about the glory that is recess"

* * *

Over the next month, Harry discovered the fun of playing as a child. It had been a pleasure that was denied to him initially, and so this was a wonderful change of pace. Initially, the Jedi kids were a bit hesitant to play games with Harry, but they got over that quickly. The children likely got over their initially hesitancy after their first trip to the accretion disk of a black hole and played "who can stay out of the black hole longest AKA Race the Light". Apparently, there is something about violating the rules of reality that loosens up even the most serious of children.

After warming up with the Black Hole (first fishing the kids out with an oversized fishing rod), they went on a grand tour of the galaxy, based on the whims of the kids. After granting the children with their own abilities to teleport around at will, with no limits to distances, they played a galaxy spanning game of hide and seek. One child was found hiding directly behind a large slug-like being known as Jabba. Another child asked to be given the power to shrink and grow at will and was found hiding in the ear of Jedi Master Yoda, constantly whispering corrections to the old master's butchering of the rules of grammar. A final child, asking for the ability to transform shape, spent a week as the lightsaber for Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi (leading to a confused Obi Wan wondering why his lightsaber had taken up humming dramatic songs whenever he was engaged in battle).

Along with the games, Harry taught the children the glory of acting innocent to ensure a prank goes right (not that Harry ever bothered acting innocent, but he figured that it would be something George would want future pranksters to learn). They started out simple, by having the youngest kid use her Puppy Dog eyes (in this case, this was just a metaphor, though Harry did consider making it literal) to convince the monarch of small planet to build the galaxy's largest amusement park. From there, they started to work on bigger pranks.

After a month, Harry was feeling well and truly pleased. The children had been mildly empowered to help with their pranking (which Harry never realized made them the most powerful beings this universe had ever known). And so, they returned to the Jedi Temple to prepare a going away party for the happy wizard. The kids even surprised him by building a blanket fort for him. The inside of the fort was of course much bigger than the ramshackle outside appearance would imply.

They had even gotten some going away toy lightsabers to play with. Sadly, the kids didn't communicate on this, so they all brought toy lightsabers. They now had over a hundred lightsabers, but only about a dozen kids to play with them.

As they wondered with the too many lightsabers, they heard someone entering the room. Looking outside, one of the kids (Harry never learned their names. Everyone was just "Hey you!") peeked out and yelled back. "It's Master Skywalker, maybe he'll know what to do with all our extra lightsabers".

So, Harry and Hey You walked out, Hey You asked for help by saying "Master Skywalker! There are too many of them, what are we going to do?" Master Skywalker lit his lightsaber, indicating he understood the problem they had with the excessive number of lightsabers. Harry then made sure Master Skywalker knew the rules of the tent, and they went back into the tent to have some fun. Master Skywalker followed right after and entered the tent as an adorable 6-year-old child making play noises with his mouth while swinging a now harmless lightsaber.

Shortly afterwards, an excessively large number of armored soldiers rushed into the tent. Well, a bunch of 5-year-old armored soldiers rushed into the tent with toy guns while yelling "Pew Pew".

As the party wound to an end, Harry said goodbye all to his new friends. All the little Hey Yous, and the weirdly smiling/broody Cloudrunner kid, and the identical clones he decided to just call Fred. With a fond farewell, he walked out of the tent to see a deeply scarred man wearing a dark cloak, peering at him with yellowish eyes.

"Where is Skywalker?" the man rasped out.

Harry shrugged, he knew that there was a… Airstrider (maybe?) kid, but Skywalker just sounded silly as a name. "I don't know"

The man sneered. "Then you are unneeded little one. Goodbye". With that, the man pointed his hand at Harry and shot bolts of immensely destructive lightning at the poor defenseless wizard child.

Harry patted his head, to smooth out his now standing hair. "Do you know how long it takes to get static electricity out of my hair!? Man, you are just like Jedi Buzzkill and the other adults I have overhead. It's all Light Side and Dark Side with you people. Don't you know there is no Light or Dark, there is only fun, and those who are too boring to seize it. Way to have me leave me on a low note!"

The young boy continued silently grumbled and then flicked his fingers at Palpatine (not that Harry knew the man's name, since he was too rude to introduce himself). With that finger flick, the Sith Lord / Emperor gasped as he felt a massive shift in the fabric of reality, and he could almost swear that the Force was now whispering "Loser" in his mind. Looking up, he saw the young boy grow into a man in his mid-20s, and then burst into an explosion of energy, with a ring of energy expanding away from the central ball of energy (and was that a tiny flat spaceship outrunning the energy wave?). The man was nowhere to be found.

"What the hell?"

With that basic realignment of the fundamental truths of this universe, Harry left to go find some more fun elsewhere. He never knew that he had transformed the Force to be powered by light-hearted fun, nor that it had become super charged to support the more epic pranks. He never knew that his transformation of the Clone Troopers in the temple reverberated across all the clones, turning them all into 5-year-old prankster children (nor that no one would ever understand why they now called themselves the Fred Troopers). He never knew that the boring politicians found themselves constantly having to ignore the universe as it telepathically taunted them for embracing the Boring Side of the Force (with Emperor retiring from the political arena while mumbling "I am getting too old for this sith"). He certainly never knew that the ancient Jedi Master Yoda embraced the Fun Side more emphatically then any other adult Jedi (apparently his use of bad grammar was a private prank he had been playing for the past 637 years), and that his enthusiasm would see him empowered into the immortal Prank God of the Universe.

With her husband now a 6-year-old child, Padme ended up marrying Obi Wan and raising her twins and former husband as their own children. Their marriage was a happy one, full of fun and joy. Though he wished he could get his lightsaber to stop humming epic songs.

Sadly, even as a mostly carefree child, Anakin Skywalker's hatred for his greatest foe still flowed through his veins. One day… he swore… one day he would finally destroy all the sand in the universe!


	10. Chapter 10 - Don't Fear The Reaper

AUTHOR NOTE – Partial answer to Reptilia28 challenge

Harry Potter wasn't sure where he was. His memory felt… foggy. The last solid memory he had was Voldemort casting the death curse at him, and an oncoming blast of green light. Then… Dumbledore was there, maybe… he had a choice to make… he chose to ride a train… and then he was here.

Looking around, he saw that he was in a large room filled with thousands upon thousands of chairs. The chairs were occupied by people who appeared to be in various mental states ranging from fully sedated to mildly dazed and confused. They all were facing in the same direction, looking at a bored woman sitting at a basic wooden desk. Next to the woman was the only door in the entire room.

At random intervals, she would speak in a mumbled voice, and someone would rise from their chair and then walk to the door and enter whatever lay beyond. It was at that point that Harry noted that the chairs were always refilled instantly by a new person, with new chairs visibly being created and filled in the distance.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the lady called out "Harry James Potter". Without any sort of control of his body, he rose and walked forward. With a rising curiosity, he opened the door to see what lay beyond.

* * *

Harry Potter walked into a non-descript room. In the room sat a man at a desk. While he had never been in the office of a tax auditor, he was certain that it would have more character than this room. Though, he did imagine that the tax auditor would not look as angry (though that would likely depend on the person being audited).

The man didn't look up from the file folder he was reading and spoke in a brusque manner tinged with anger. "Sit down!"

Not seeing any reason to ignore the command, Harry sat down in the rickety wooden chair. He did not care for how uncomfortable the chair was, nor the straight back that didn't allow any sort of ability to backwards.

The man looked up at Harry, his voiced filled with an undercurrent of rage. "Are you trying to get me fired, Harry? I'm serious! Do you hate me for some reason?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I can't say that I have a reason to have anything against you. Then again, we just met, so I guess I could learn to want to have you fired. Let's see how things go."

The man blinked. "You're a bit mouthier then the last few times we've met. And we have met, Harry. I am Maurice, your Grim Reaper. You are dead… again!"

Harry chuckled. "I'm dead? How did that happen?"

"Do you remember stepping in front of Voldemort's killing curse?"

"Vaguely"

"Well, as a tip, the killing curse tends to kill those it hits. It's subtle, I know, but you can a see hint to the nature of the curse in how it is called the freaking KILLING curse! And not only that, when given a chance to move on to the afterlife or go back to finish the fight, you chose to come here! Do you know how infuriating that is!?"

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I would imagine that you would find that rather helpful. After all, you're a Grim Reaper, and I apparently reaped myself for you. Congratulations on a job well done!"

Maurice rubbed his temples, trying to ward off a massive migraine. "Normally, you choosing to play the martyr wouldn't matter one bit to me. People die all the time, and we don't really care if they didn't meet their heaven-chosen life goals. But, not you! For some odd reason, you are a lynchpin for the Earth's continued existence. You need to meet your goals, or everyone suffers!"

Intrigued, Harry leaned forward. "And what goals could Heaven have for little ole Harry Potter?"

Maurice looked down at the folder and read from it a manner that made it clear he had read the list before. "You are meant to kill Voldemort, transition the Wizarding World to the light while rooting out the hatred and bigotry, marry your soul-mate… some Granger girl, and die at a ripe old age of 176 years old. What you are not meant to do is to die prematurely 6 times and then choose to stay dead before killing Voldemort, nor get in a relationship with the Weasley girl, nor let the Granger girl get taken by someone else."

Harry looked confused. "Hermione as a soul mate? I always got more of an annoying sibling vibe from her. I mean, what would even be the celebrity couple name for us? Herry? Ponger? Grotter? That just sounds silly."

Maurice stared at Harry with confusion. "What… in… the world, are you talking about? Who cares about your celebrity couple name? No, don't answer! Let's just move forward. Normally you start asking about your previous deaths, don't you want to know about those?"

Harry leaned back into his chair. "Hit me!"

Maurice was feeling very off his game. Normally he would just yell at Harry for dying, and Harry would act very upset, confused, and contrite. He had never dealt with someone who had died so many times, so maybe the soul went a bit weird after a while. He pressed on.

"The first death was when the Dursleys left you in your cupboard for a month, and you died of dehydration"

"That would explain I had a thirst for vengeance as a kid"

"The second death was when you fell off your broom when Quirrell was cursing it."

"Well, I was young, I didn't really know how to comfortably hang out back then."

"Yes… well… the third death was when the basilisk's fang entered your heart instead of your shoulder."

"That bites"

"… What? Moving on, the fourth death was when Draco Malfoy tripped you and you fell from the top of the seventh-floor stairs."

"I thought you said was Hermione was my soulmate, but now you're saying I fell head over heals for Draco. Make up your mind!"

Maurice stared at Harry for a full minute, trying to gather his wits. "Are you taking this seriously?"

Harry leaned back further in his chair. "Nope"

Maurice looked back down at his list of deaths. There was only one more to go. "Listen, if you want to hear about the fifth death, the one before your most recent death, then you need to take this seriously!"

Harry spoke in a relaxed manner. "Then I guess I won't hear about the fifth death"

This was not how things were supposed to be going. He was a Grim Reaper, damnit! He was supposed to be in control of the situation, he was supposed to be respected, he wasn't supposed to be ignored like this, but still… "Come on, it was a good one. Don't you want to hear it?"

"Not really"

"Come oooooooon!"

Harry sighed. "… Fine"

"OK! Dumbledore didn't manage to subdue the Inferi in the lake of the Horcrux Cave. You had a running battle with the undead horde. You watched as Dumbledore fell to a horde of over fifty, buying you precious seconds to make it to the exit. You somehow managed to take out 37 of the fiends and made it one step out of the entrance when one tripped you. Another second, and you would have made it. They dragged you back in and then ripped you in to thousands of pieces. Even I was impressed by that one. Come on, you can't possibly feel like making a joke out of that one… can you?"

"Eh… I'm torn"

Maurice grunted in annoyance. "Fine, you don't care about your previous deaths. Whatever! Here's the deal. I am going to send you back into time, with your memories intact this time, so that you can fix everything that you messed up and meet your heavenly goals. This is your LAST chance! If you fail this time, then that is the end of all life on Earth. So, get up out of that ridiculous black massage chair and come along to meet with Fate so we can move things along. Huh, where did that chair even come from?"

At that point, the door to the office opened and a very nervous and confused Harry Potter walked into the room.

"What the hell!?"

* * *

Harry Potter walked into the drab office, and almost stepped back when a man angrily shouted, "What the hell!?"

Still, Harry was a Gryffindor, and he fully believed in the oft-disproved stereotypes that Gryffindors are courageous. So, he courageously didn't flee from the man who had yelled at no specific person, and the quietly spoke up politely. "Pardon me, I don't know what is going on. Is this the afterlife?"

A throat cleared, capturing Harry's attention. He looked down to see what appeared to be a very relaxed version of himself sitting in what looked to be the most comfortable chair he had ever seen.

The doppelganger spoke up. "Hi there Larry, I'm Dairy. I'll fill you in."

"My name is Harry"

"Sure, but you're the Local Harry, while I'm the Dimension Travelling Harry. So, you're Larry and I'm Dairy. Oh, but you're the Dead Harry while I'm the Living Harry. So, maybe I should be Larry and you should Dairy. Nah... that just sounds silly and confusing. Frankly, I don't think you trying to confuse me speaks very highly of you Larry."

"I'm ….sorry?"

"Apology accepted, Larry. Anyways, the short story is that you're dead. Your celebrity couple name was supposed to be Herotter or something like that. And your Grim Reaper is incompetent. Any questions?"

"Well…"

"Great, so do you want to go back in time and fix everything, or move on to the afterlife?"

"Go back? No, I chose to move forward. I'm just so tired, and I am ready to see my parents and everyone else again."

"Cool beans! Have fun." With that, a pillar of bright light covered Larry and sucked him up into the next step in the journey of the afterlife.

A stunned Maurice's mind finally caught up. "Who the hell are you? What did you just do?"

* * *

Maurice, not waiting for a response from Harry, rushed over to his desk and picked up his phone. "I need Fate to come to my office immediately. We have an intruder and a level 10 emergency. Harry Potter just got sent on to the afterlife without meeting his goals!"

Maurice slammed down the phone, glaring at this intruder. "I don't know how you did that, but we'll fix it. It's what we do. You might as well take a seat in your ridiculous chair, because there is absolutely no way anyone can leave this room until Fate herself declares the level 10 emergency is over. And, when Fate gets her hands on you…" Maurice shuddered in a combination of horror and anticipation.

The stranger smiled at Maurice, then walked over to the door to the lobby. Maurice smirked, knowing that the door no longer connected to the lobby. There were countless offices that all connected to the lobby door, but only for the amount of time it took for the next appointment to enter. Right now, not only was the door sealed completely, but it connected to an infinite void. As such, Maurice could be excused for being left speechless when the man opened the door (which was impossible), the door was connected to the lobby (which it shouldn't have been), stuck his head out the door (the portal was one-way into the office), yelled out a name to summon a deceased soul (who should only ever be able to hear the reception's voice), and pulled in the soul of a dead red head (which is difficult to say five times fast).

"Hey Fred, how's death treating you?" said the man.

Fred Weasley looked at the man curiously. "Harry?"

"Well, Larry's gone, so I guess I'm Harry again. Sure. So, being dead… enjoying it?"

"It's a bit… dull"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I got that feeling. Seems perfect for Larry, but not for a Gred or Forge."

"You got that right. So, where is my less handsome twin?"

"Still alive. Apparently, he wasn't willing to die while taking the time to appreciate Percy telling a joke."

Fred sighed. "I blame the hole in his ear. It threw off his sense of inappropriately timed humor appreciation."

"Well, holy men aren't known for their senses of humor."

"Too true, too true. Being more handsome and funnier is a true burden to carry."

Fred sighed. "Or, at least, it WAS a burden to carry. I guess I don't get to carry much of anything now that I'm dead. What happens now, Harry?"

"I would like to know that as well" spoke a woman who had just materialized into the room. Harry took in her frizzy hair and pale eyes and got the image of what it would like if Hermione and Luna had a child, and then inserted Percy Weasley's attitude into the child.

"Hi there, I'm Harry. Who are you?" asked a smiling Harry.

"I am the one in charge of this place. I am the one who ensures the mortal realm continues to run according to plan. I am the one who is VERY pissed off at some interloper setting off a Level 10 emergency that will see all mortal life ending within a century! I AM FATE!"

An unperturbed Harry continued to smile. "Nice to meet you FATE, can I call you Fate? Or isn't the whole name capitalized? This is Fred." A nervous Fred waved.

Fate ignored Harry for the moment and turned to Maurice. "Where is Potter?"

Maurice nervously responded. "This intruder sent him on to the afterlife. The Level 10 activation should have called for him to be returned, and I don't know why he isn't back yet."

Fate huffed in annoyance. "Why am I surrounded by incompetence? Fine, I'll pull him back."

Fate closed her eyes, opened them up, and frowned. She closed her eyes again and seemed to be straining to do something. Sweat began to pour down her face in small rivers (which was odd, since anthropomorphic representations of universal constants should not sweat). The ever-present blaring alarms started to form the theme song to Final Jeopardy. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at Harry in horror.

"I have never been blocked from pulling a soul back. How are you doing that?"

Harry looked to Fred. "Forge, does a prankster reveal how he pulled a prank?"

Fred just smiled, seeming much more relaxed (being in Harry's corner after all). "No, well not unless he is lying."

"Excellent point my dear Gred"

Harry turned back to Fate. "I'll go with a lie then. The answer is… Magic Llama"

Fred spoke up helpfully. "It helps if you don't tell the person that you are lying."

Harry shrugged. "Noted"

While Fate was not used to dealing with massively powerful beings that dwarfed her powers, she was a big enough anthropomorphic representation to admit when she was defeated.

"What do you want?"

Harry touched Fred's shoulder, infusing his soul with a golden energy. Then turned back to Fate. "You were going to send Larry back in time, do it with Fred instead. I'm not really interested in the whole 'bringing people back to life' thing, but who am I to judge if it's your bag."

"I can't let him keep his memories from after his return."

Harry shrugged. "Makes sense. It would spoil the fun to know what is coming."

"He's not the chosen one, Voldemort will still win."

"Well, I chose him to go back. He's the only one I chose. Hence, he's a chosen one. That's just science!"

"That's not how it works… eh… whatever, it's only all life on the planet, right!?" Fate finished in the most sarcastic voice she could manage (it should be noted that the last time Fate was at her most sarcastic, she unintentionally caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. So, she could manage a decent level of sarcasm).

Harry, unaffected by the sarcasm, smiled. "That's the spirit! Now, chop chop!"

Fate huffed again in irritation, clapped her hands and Fred Weasley woke up in his bed. It was the morning he was to head off for his fifth year at Hogwarts ("also Harry's third year" he randomly decided to speak as exposition to himself).

Fate looked at the insufferable powerful being. "Are you happy now?"

Harry looked at her in confusion. "I never stopped being happy. Well, see later crocodile!"

With that, Harry walked over to Maurice's desk, and jumped into his Outbox Tray. He then disappeared from the dimension to the sound of someone saying "Goodbye" that would be irritatingly familiar to anyone who used AOL.

* * *

It ended up taking some time for Fate to understand what Harry had done. This was after she had returned to her office and discovered a button labeled "Selectively Suppress Fate's Powers", that was being pressed by the hoof a happy looking llama (wearing a button saying "Hello My Name Is Magic Llama").

She eventually learned that Fred indeed did not remember anything from his 5th year and beyond, but things had quickly changed anyway from his reinsertion. As best as she could tell, the golden light had given Fred permanent good luck, but he nor anyone else noticed the fact since the luck often took incredibly circuitous routes that rarely gave him what he aimed for but gave him something he liked even better. Also, there was now a new prophecy that explicitly made it clear that Fred was the Chosen One.

She didn't even bother trying to figure out how the local Harry Potter was still around on the mortal plain while his soul also was happily resting in the after-life with his parents. Yes, it was impossible, but at this point, barely anything was impossible anymore.

Of course, the dimension travelling Harry suspected all the above would occur.

What he would never know was how Fate would eventually retire and put her new pet llama in charge of the universe (which led to a Golden Age that lasted millions of years). Nor how Dumbledore ended up dancing an impressively spry jig around the Great Hall after leaving the Department of Mysteries where he verified Trelawney's latest prophecy "The old prophecy is voided. Fate's chosen is now Fred Weasley. He will easily defeat Voldemort. The defeater of Grindelwald can stop worrying, and just focus on his passion for teaching (or whatever). Also, the sexy lightning bolt scar is now curse free. Oh, and the defeater of Grindelwald would be well served to try out Lemon Heads. Prophecy Out!". As it turned out Dumbledore did not care for Lemon Heads, but it did lead to his discovery of Skittles (which he enjoyed immensely, and people actually accepted when offered).

He also wouldn't know of the many pranks that were pulled by Fred and George. There was the prank with the koala and bubble gum which ended up having Britain being annexed by Australia. There was the prank with the two tons of chocolate and single toothpick which ended up developing a perpetual motion machine that provide infinite power to the world. There was the prank which started with convincing Ron that he was invisible, getting him to sneak into the girls' showers, and a few more intermediary steps (many of which involved healing Ron's multiple contusions and concussions), eventually leading towards a joke business empire spanning multiple galaxies and a small kiosk in Harrods. There was also a small prank that Fred felt compelled to perform, which involved having three monkeys stand on each other's shoulders, dressed in a trench coat, and successfully sneaking them into an R rated movie.

Maurice ended up being demoted to receptionist, and the receptionist (Rebecca) took his job. It was quickly proven that Rebecca was a natural at the job, and apparently Maurice had just been that incompetent (he only messed up in his job as receptionist about 30% of the time).

As for the local Harry Potter, he ended up marrying an Australian Quidditch Seeker named Lorelai Granger (no relation to Hermione Granger). Teen Witch's headline to the marriage was "HaLo Married: A Match Made in Heaven".


	11. Chapter 11 - Of Slugs And Pancakes

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossover with The Good Place

SPOILER WARNING – Major spoilers up through the end of Season 3 of The Good Place.

Harry Potter was hungry. Oh, sure, he could simply produce any food he wanted with a thought, but there was something intrinsically better about food made by someone else. Well, that is assuming the person making the food knows what they are doing. In fact, there were many times where Harry's food was much better than the food made by someone else. So, it's not so much that the food was intrinsically better, but that Harry just wanted to mooch off someone.

Harry thought about his hunger as he ping-ponged off the surfaces of an infinite number of dimensions within the time it takes to make a delicious pancake. As he felt his body rebounding at forces which would be considered excessive by most Universe starting Big Bangs, he noticed something that looked like a collection of kitchen knives, each with a small disc hovering above it with a tall sign declaring each disc as being an "IHOP".

Curious, he ping-ponged off a dimension that appeared to be composed solely of passive aggressive sentient shades of the color blue (for some reason azure was the absolute worst, I mean teal was obviously pretty bad, but azure ran passive aggressive circles around teal). As he neared one of the IHOPs, he noticed the letters stood for Interdimensional Hole of Pancakes. Sold at the word of Pancakes, he careened into the IHOP and took a seat.

Looking around he noticed that there were several free piles of pancakes, but no waitstaff. Shrugging, he remained invisible and grabbed a pile. He then brought the pile over to a free table while watching a white-haired man preparing to give a presentation to a woman dressed as a judge. There were also five other people watching the presentation with great interest.

He took a bite out of a pancake and found himself deeply disappointed. As such, he decided to munch quietly as he listened to the presentation. He listened as the white-haired guy said that buying a tomato had negative morality points because of unintended consequences (it somehow supports evil corporation or other nonsense), and the judge didn't see a problem with damning a person over said tomato. At that point, Harry knew everything he needed to know about the judge, and so mostly tuned her out.

For a moment, the white-haired man (Michael, apparently) started do a wonderful dance called the "backpack kid dance" which filled Harry with happiness. But Harry nearly decided to leave in response to a guy in khakis and glasses starting to talk about philosophy. And, then, a wonderful young man with a wild look in his eyes jumped forward to stop the boring man and began to weave a magnificent tale about a man from his dance crew in Jacksonville (a place which Harry knew must be magical, as possession of non-fried vegetables was a felony).

Eventually, the genius wild-eyed young man (Harry would call him Boy Luna) convinced the judge to visit the mortal plane on Earth to see that everything there was too messed up for the after-life to continue using the same broken point system. The judge left and came back, and seemed convinced, but instead of accepting the finding and doing something, she instead pulled in a person from "The Bad Place" (which Harry assumed to be a place that was opposite of what he imagined magical Jacksonville was, which was an extremely poor assumption) and said she needed help solving the problem.

Harry felt the room begin to transfigure into a new configuration as he heard the judge say "But, first let's have a change of scenery." The room transformed from a run-of-the-mill restaurant to a bland conference room. Harry looked down at his disappointing pancakes and decided that enough was enough.

As one of the nice-looking ladies (the one who occasionally shot loving glances at Boy Luna, and hence Harry thought of as Girl Neville) began to say, "Remember guys, we're still in the IHOP…", the conference jumped back to a circular booth table at the IHOP where everyone was still seated.

"That shouldn't have happened…" said the Judge. The room transitioned back to the conference room, and then reverted to everyone sitting at separate booths in the restaurant. The judge got a look of frustrated concentration on her face, as the room transitioned back to the conference room. Then to everyone sitting at bar stools at the counter. To the conference room. To everyone sitting in beanbag chairs around a raging campfire in the restaurant. To the conference room.

In annoyance, Harry became visible and spoke up. "You know, if you're not even going to show any imagination, then I am done with this game." The room then became the restaurant with everyone sitting at a normal rectangular table, with Harry sitting next to Boy Luna.

Every person in the room stared at Harry. Well, except for Boy Luna who was staring at Harry's pancakes.

* * *

The Judge stared at this newcomer in shock, which was a rare emotion for her to feel considering that she had access to all the information in existence. It should have been impossible to have her powers overridden or to hide from her view, and yet it had just happened. She flexed her powers once more to change the room back to the conference and was flabbergasted that nothing happened. While she could still feel her power, she felt a block in place preventing her from using them.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled kindly, while stabbing a piece of pancake, and responded. "I'm Harry."

* * *

Sean (the head of The Bad Place) stared at the newcomer with a wary expression. It was a rare being that could override The Judge in any manner (as he had yet to hear any entity more powerful that the Judge), and if there was one thing a smart demon knew was to never mess with a being that was more powerful than you. Sadly, for Harry, this would mean that Sean would never reveal himself to be the equivalent of an evil Hermione. For some reason, Sean felt certain he had just dodged a few centuries of being constantly irritated.

* * *

Janet (anthropomorphic information kiosk for The Good Place AKA Girl Neville) looked at the newcomer with a smile of great confusion. She was designed to know everything in the universe and was feeling a bit stymied by her complete lack of knowledge about this individual.

* * *

Michael (reformed Demon of the Bad Place), along with the humans trying to avoid The Bad Place (Eleanor, Chidi, and Tahani) all looked at the new comer with a sense of confusion. They also felt a sense of resignation, since it seemed appropriate that, yet another surprise would pop up to keep them from The Good Place.

* * *

Jason (leader of a 40-man dance crew in Jacksonville and trying to avoid The Bad Place AKA Boy Luna) felt betrayed. He had been told that the food here could not be eaten, and here was this cool dude eating a big stack of pancakes.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yes, Boy Luna?"

"Could I have some of those pancakes?"

"Sure"

"NO!" several people yelled at him.

Michael spoke up. "Jason, I told you, if you eat anything here. You WILL explode!"

Harry responded, holding a fork full of pancake out to Jason. "Hey, who are you going to believe? Your friend, or the stranger offering a free pancake?"

Jason stared at his friends, then the forkful of pancake, then his friends, then the fork.

"Dude!" spoke Eleanor. "This is not a tough decision. You're dead and don't need to eat. Is a pancake really worth exploding?"

Jason nodded in understanding. "You're right… You're saying I need to take more risks." He then grabbed the fork and took a bite.

Everyone around the table winced in anticipation, except for Harry who placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and suffused his essence with gold energy.

After a long and tense moment, Jason failed to explode. However, his expression turned a bit disappointed.

Harry looked at Jason's expression. "I know, not really that great. Right?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's got a kick…"

"… like a sun exploding in a bowl of hot sauce?"

"… totally. I mean, it's only like a medium hot sauce from Stupid Nick's Wing Dump, in Jacksonville, but it also tastes like…"

"First, Jacksonville sounds awesome!"

An inordinately happy Jason yelled "Jacksonville Rules!"

"I'm sure it does. And for the pancakes. I've been trying to figure out the taste. It reminds me of my first kiss, which was horrible."

"Oh yeah, Harry Dog? Cause it reminds me of the time I got a date with Pizza Arm Jim's sister, and we were going to get some free pizza from her cousin, Spaghetti Legs Bill, but she wanted the small pepperonis and I wanted the big pepperonis. I mean she was really dope and fly, but I knew then that it just wasn't meant to be. There's just some things you can't get over, you know?"

"Totally! So… taste's like a disappointing first date?"

"DAMN! That's it! You know what we need?"

"What do we need Boy Luna?"

"Some syrup!"

"YES! You are a genius Boy Luna!"

"I know!"

Harry then looked around and directed his attention at Tahani's neck. "Excuse me Tall Lady…"

Tahani, surprised to be addressed, responded. "Well, while I suppose I am taller than some of the ladies in this room, my name is Tahani Al-Jamil, not Tall Lady."

Harry shrugged. "OK, Al, can I borrow your slug?"

Tahani ignored Eleanor's snorted laugh, as she once again became aware that the green scarf, she was wearing was in fact a dangerous hyperdimensional slug that was draped around her shoulders. Normally she would have responded to being called "Al", but for the moment she was paralyzed in fear. With great effort she responded, "If you can safely take it off me, feel free."

Before Michael and Janet could warn against it, Harry snapped his fingers and the green hyperdimensional slug was gone from her shoulders and hovered in front of Harry and Jason.

"Let's see, we need a knife now… Ah!"

Harry shoved his hand down through the floor and pulled up a knife. The humans found themselves staring at the knife with slack jawed shock (though Jason's expression remained unchanged). Perhaps this was because of seeing a knife pulled out of nowhere, or perhaps it was because it was composed of a trillion different realities folding in on each other like thin sheets of metal forming a single blade, it was hard to tell from their expressions. Harry ignored their looks and quickly poked the slug and squeezed out a dollop of ooze onto the pancakes.

As Harry began to spread the ooze on the pancakes with the knife, The Judge spoke up. "Could you, please, stop using the Time Knife like a butter knife?"

Harry shrugged, wiped off the knife and dropped it back through the floor. Unknowingly resulting in one adjacent reality to have every star becoming shaped like a smiling slug. It didn't have any other effect, but it sure creeped out the living sentients of the time. Future civilizations would eventually rise where slugs were worshipped as gods. Eventually, a space explorer would come across "The Great Slug Dollop" hovering in space and use its multi-dimensional powers to elevate the slugs into actual gods. This achievement unified the peoples of the reality and led to a true universal peace. From that point, every member of that reality would end up going to that reality's Good Place. The god slugs, being just slugs with immense power but no additional intellect, remained ambivalent about everything except finding food and staying moist.

Unaware of the rise of the Great Utopian Empire of the Slug God, Harry and Jason took a bite of the oozed pancake.

Harry looked at Jason. "It tastes like… a warm hug?"

Jason looked back thoughtfully. "Yeah… and vanilla"

Harry nodded. "But, on the pancakes, it's like getting an awkward hug at the end of a bad first date."

Jason nodded back. "Yeah… and vanilla!"

Harry swallowed his bite. "And vanilla."

With that, Harry slid the plate of disappointing pancakes away from himself. He looked up at the other people at the table and spoke. "That was a waste of a pancake. Welp, no point in staying… but first, quick question. Is Boy Luna here going to The Bad Place?"

The Judge answered. "We were trying to figure that out before you popped in. JASON, not Boy Luna, was supposed to go The Bad Place, but I haven't decided…"

Harry interrupted her by waving his hand dismissively. "No, I got it. You have a system that is proven to be broken, but you're not going to fix it. Because you would first have to admit that you are a massively evil being, what with your torturing of good people. Instead, you'll probably set up some meaningless test that you'll make sure the humans will fail so that you can go back to the status quo. No one will call you on it because there is no one strong enough to stop you. You're not the first corrupt government I've encountered."

Before the Judge could protest, Harry looked over at Jason. "Boy Luna, you're the only one here who looks like he has his head screwed on straight and knows the difference between right and wrong."

Jason responded with a dopey grin, and vacant look in his eyes.

"So, easy solution…"

Harry put his hand on Jason's shoulder and pumped a great deal of golden light into the dopey man.

"There! Congratulations, you are now the god-boss of this dimension. Oh wait…"

Harry then formed a ball of golden energy in his palm, and then flicked it into Janet's forehead.

"There you go Girl Neville, you are co-god-boss."

Harry looked at the slug, smacked his head, healed the hovering slug, and then wrapped it back around Tahani's shoulders.

"Sorry, Al, I almost forgot to give you back your slug scarf." He affectionally patted the slug scarf and spoke gently towards the entity rapidly shifting between a slimy slug and a fashionable scarf. "Take care of yourself, Mrs. Sluggersworth!"

With that, Harry pulled a newly created lever next to his chair. The chair then tilted backwards, and he fell into a newly formed hole in the fabric of reality. The last thing the shocked occupants (and Jason, who was not shocked) heard from the strange man was "Jacksonville Rules!"

Jason Mendozza, the new god-boss of this reality's after-life, stood up to make his first declaration as an elevated being of unprecedented power.

"Jacksonville Rules!"

"This is bad" said a shell-shocked Judge.

Harry would eventually find a decent pancake, but he would never know how much Jason and Janet changed the after-life. He wouldn't know how Eleanor and Chidi were given their own Good Place to love each other, and occasionally talk to noted philosophers like Sartre, Descartes, and Khloe Kardashian. Nor how Tahani began a Good Place Talk Show where she became the Oprah of dead celebrities (Mrs. Sluggersworth became her Producer, and real Oprah eventually became her sidekick when she passed on). Nor how Sean ended up being put in charge of a Bad Place neighborhood where bad people who were sports fans were forced to watch nothing but Jacksonville sports teams trouncing their favorites (Jason thought it was a Good Place neighborhood, and Janet didn't have the heart to tell him differently). Not even how Michael went on to focusing the remainder of his career (which lasted for an infinite number of years) helping to redeem bad people through customized neighborhoods which brought. In the end, it was decided that Jason's new system of "Lame, Alright, or Dope" turned out to be a much fairer system (if Jason thought you were Lame, you definitely deserved The Bad Place). The new Medium Places were a huge hit for those who weren't Dope and didn't like the idea of eternal torment.

As for the Judge, after officiating the wedding of Jason and Janet, she was retired to an eternity of living in Jacksonville. Jason was happy to give her a wonderful retirement. Oddly, the Judge quite enjoyed herself and starred on a local cable TV show as a small claims TV Judge (Judging Jacksonville, Weekdays, 4PM EST).


	12. Chapter 12 - Yo Effect Is So Massive

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossover with Mass Effect games (1 thru 3)

Commander Katherine Shepard, of the Systems Alliance Navy, stared at the three choices before her, wondering which choice was the correct one to make. It was hard to believe that it was no more than four years ago that she had discovered the existence of the Reapers, and now she had to choose how to end the seemingly hopeless war against them. Now was her chance to save the sentient species of the galaxy. How the hell did things get to this point?

It had started relatively simply. She had gone on a mission to be evaluated for becoming the first human Spectre (a group of elite soldiers who worked outside the law for galactic stability). That, in of itself, would represent a vote of confidence by the Council (the ruling body of galactic politics), it would say they felt that Humanity (the newcomer to the galaxy at large) was a species worthy of respect. Sadly, things did not stay simple.

First, they discovered that an existing Spectre (a Turian named Saren) had gone rogue and had allied with the sentient machine race known as the Geth. Shepard became a Spectre and hunted Saren across the vast expanse of space. Along the way, she discovered he was simply a puppet of the Reapers. Oh, how she wished the problem was just the political nightmare of a rogue Spectre. Instead it was the damned existential nightmare of the Reapers.

Over the following years, she fought with all her body, mind, and soul to stop the Reapers. A race of ancient sentient ships that were insanely powerful and dedicated to committing an endless cycle of genocide. When a species reached a certain level of technological development, they would swoop in and kill every member of that species and wipe them from the history of the galaxy. Then they would go wait outside the rim of the galaxy and wait another 50,000 years for the next species to be ready for destruction.

She had fought to stop the Reapers. She had died to stop the Reapers. She was resurrected through a mad melding of biology and bleeding edge technology, and then fought some more to stop the Reapers. In the end, it proved to only be a delaying tactic, having bought the galaxy a few extra years before the invasion of millions of the overpowered genocidal behemoths.

Against such impossible odds, she still fought. As Earth fell, she fought. As colonies and home worlds fell, she fought. She fought against the Reaper ships. She fought against the people who had been brain washed (Indoctrinated) by the Reapers. She fought against the people who been transformed into mindless husks (who looked like cyborg zombies). She fought to form alliances, collect resources, and buy enough time to build the mysterious super weapon known as the Crucible.

The Crucible was a weapon designed over millions of years by so many species that had fought and lost to the Reapers. No one knew what it was supposed to do, but it was built with the hope that it would save the people of the galaxy. And finally, here she was, preparing to activate the weapon. Standing on the Citadel (the ancient space station that served as the base of the Council, now transported into orbit over Earth), she was talking to the AI known as Catalyst. Catalyst, the same AI that created the Reapers, was now offering three options to end the Reaper threat.

Despite all the insanity she had witnessed thus far, this felt like the most insane moment of the whole war. Here she was, talking to an ancient AI that was assuming the holographic form of a young boy she knew to be dead. She didn't know the boy's name. He was simply a child who she had tried and failed to save when the Reapers first attack Earth. Other than in her nightmares, the last time she had seen him he had just crawled into an escape shuttle which was then immediately blown up by the Reapers. And now, it was like his ghost was giving her the chance to avenge him and all the fallen with one of three choices.

Three choices…

If she chose the Destroy option, she would destroy all the Reapers. But she would also destroy the Geth who she had managed to befriend and have join the alliance of sentient life against the Reaper invasion. And murder her friend, the AI known as EDI.

If she chose the Control option, she would be given control of the Reapers. But she would have her body disintegrated and have her mind uploaded to the ethereal web where the Reaper minds exist. She would turn the Reapers to her purposes but lose all contact with the physical world.

If she chose the Synthesis option, all synthetic and organic life would be merged into a new form of life that would be a perfect mixture of the two. Her loved ones would be changed, but alive. However, her body would be disintegrated, and she would never live to see that ending.

She looked up to see a raging battle raging above, ships exploding in the vacuum of space. The whole scene felt… cinematic. Almost like an action vid she would watch on a date. She imagined she could even see a dark-haired man in the corner of her eye, watching her make her decision while eating a bag of popcorn. When she looked, there was no one there of course, though her imagination still made her think she could smell the lingering odor of popcorn butter.

Shaking her head, she shrugged off the odd thoughts. Now was not the time for wild imaginings. People were dying, and they deserved her making the best decision she could. She stood up with a straight back, well as straight as she could in her injured shape. She walked forward. Her decision was made, and it was time to follow through. No second guessing. Time for action!

"Not so fast Commander Shepard!"

* * *

Shepard looked to her side and saw a man walking towards her. He was wearing an amazingly ugly checkered wool suit, brought together by an eye watering paisley tie. His dark messy hair seemed to bounce with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"Popcorn man?"

The man chuckled. "That's right Commander Shepard. I have to say it has been very entertaining watching you confront your ultimate nemesis. The backdrop of an intense space battle made it VERY dramatic. I've been looking for a proper space adventure for ages, so what better than some popcorn when I have finally found it?"

Catalyst stepped forward, its voice filled with a sense of confusion and irritation. "I don't know who you are, but this moment is for Shepard alone. Shepard, you must make your decision soon, or else the Reapers will destroy your forces and take the choice away from you."

The man smiled broadly. "Are you sure about that?"

Catalyst's voice turned smug. "It is a certainty. Look for yourself".

They all looked up. The man grinned. Shepard gawped. Catalyst froze for several seconds as its CPUs hit 100% for the first time in 300 million years.

The battle above had stopped. Not in the sense that hostilities had ceased. More in the sense that all movement stopped, including all projectiles and all light-based weapons. Shepard was fascinated by the sight of a clearly visible endpoint for a laser beam stopped in the middle of space. Actually… that was confusing, as the lasers should be invisible to the naked eye.

A confused Shepard spoke to the man. "What did you do? And why can I see those lasers?"

"Both answers are simple. First, I stopped time for the physical universe outside of this room while allowing for thought processes to continue. Second, I made all lasers temporarily visible because it looks cool."

"… what?"

"Well, I want cool visuals for the show, and it wouldn't do for my viewers to die."

"What show?"

The man's smile widened impossibly, making every single one of his teeth plainly visible (had she known the people and the time period, she would say it looked like Gilderoy Lockhart hosting a 70s Game Show). Looking down, she realized she was now standing at a gaudy yellow waist high podium. At the front of the podium was her name written in black marker on a white board. Across from her stood Catalyst at an identical podium (with "Catalyst" written on that white board). In between them, the black-haired walked forward. Shepard found herself thinking that the angling of the podiums would make a standard setup for maximizing visibility if they were standing in front of an audience, despite the lack of audience. Although she noticed there now some extremely ancient-looking TV Cameras pointing at them.

The man pulled out a long thin microphone. Then the room filled with the sound of pre-recorded applause.

* * *

"Hello everyone, I'm your host Harry Potter, and this is…"

A non-existent studio audience gleefully shouted "CHOOSE… YOUR… FATE!" followed by a massive amount of cheering and clapping.

As a very confused Catalyst seemed to be struggling to regain control of its movements, Shepard simply relaxed and realized she could move her torso when she stopped trying to escape her podium. Harry Potter grinned and talked with an overly exaggerated happiness.

"With us today we have two exceptional guests. First, she's the face of the resistance against the Reapers, she's a bad-ass warrior, she's… Commander… Katherine… Shepard!"

The non-audience cheered and hooted in excitement.

"And, acting as her opponent, is the creator of the Reapers. You either hate him, or you are an Indoctrinated slave of his, he's…. Catalyst!"

Boos and jeers followed Catalyst's introduction. Catalyst looked oddly upset by this reaction.

Harry admonished the fictional audience. "Now, let's keep things civil people. Catalyst has just been granted the ability to feel emotions, and those feelings can be hurt."

More boos were heard, along with an occasional aww.

"Now for those just joining us, be you Geth or Quarian, Reaper or Husk, or… well this show is being beamed directly into the mind of ever being with some level of sentience in this galaxy, so I guess a hearty welcome to… the Galaxy!"

Shepard looked at Potter in shock, while Catalyst tried to get out of an infinite loop of feeling shock about feeling shock about feeling shock about… well they were both shocked.

"Before the show began, Catalyst just gave Commander Shepard three options for stopping the Reaper War. And I am sure that they were three valid choices. Sure, Catalyst has spent over a billion years committing thousands of genocides, quintillions of murders, subverting the wills of billions, betrayed and murdered his creators, and is wearing the face of a child he murdered which is incidentally playing havoc on the Commander's sense of guilt, but I'm sure Catalyst would not lie to the woman trying to thwart his billion year old plan. After all, lying is wrong!"

Shepard looked at Catalyst suspiciously, while Catalyst was… whistling nonchalantly!? Really!?

"Going over the options, ordered from most preferred by Catalyst to least preferred. The first option is Synthesis. With Synthesis, Commander Shepard will be disintegrated and then all life in the galaxy, both organic and synthetic) will have their core essence rewritten to become a mixture of synthetic and organic. Of course, some of you might say 'But, Harry, wouldn't that mean that our DNA will be irrevocably rewritten so that our genome no longer exists? Isn't the destruction of a genome the very definition of genocide?' To that I say that you shouldn't worry about it, or rather you won't worry about it because you will have your mental processes modified so that you will be happy about the change and will only think about ways to cooperate with everyone. And maybe some of you might reply 'Wait! You just described the symptoms of Indoctrination. It sounds like this option is just going to transform all of us into a more advanced form of Husk!' And to that I say… let's move on to option number two!"

Shepard glared murderously at Catalyst. Catalyst nervously ignored her glare and focused on playing with a yo-yo made of light.

"Option two is Control. With Control, Commander Shepard will be disintegrated and have her mind uploaded to the Reaper hive mind. There, she will be given absolute power over the Reapers. Given her love of the people of this galaxy, I am sure she will use this power for good. Of course, she will no longer be able to interact with the people of this galaxy, so the Reapers will become her hands, eyes, and ears. Oh sure, most psychologists would say isolating a human from everyone except the Reapers is a recipe for Stockholm Syndrome, where the person would eventually identify with the Reapers' ideals. And, yes, it would be easy for a corrupted hero to slide from helping people, to pacifying invading armies, to killing a few million in the present for the preservation of theoretical future generations. So, sure, a lesser individual would likely be convinced to restart the cycle of genocide within a few decades. But this is Commander Katherine Shepard we are talking about! For her to go down that path she would need to have both a moment of weakness and be corrupted by the absolute power being offered to her, what are the odds of that?"

Shepard balled her fists, while her glare intensified. Catalyst began reading a holographic book entitled "Looking Innocent for Dummies".

"Finally, we have Option three, Destroy! With Destroy, the Reapers and all their husks will be destroyed. By that, I of course mean that the husks will be disintegrated, and the Reaper ships will be disabled permanently and crash. Oh sure, even an inactive Reaper will Indoctrinate people, so those crash sites could never be inhabited again. But the Reapers would be destroyed! Well, unless they happen to have come up with the idea of back-up systems sometime in the last billion years. Even then, they would need to have people willing to help activate those back-up systems, and who would be willing to do that except for the millions of Indoctrinated individuals in the galaxy and the countless scavengers who would become Indoctrinated while ignoring the danger of the crash sites? Yes, the Reapers are redundant enough to have their Indoctrination technology still working on unpowered ship hull fragments, but do people really think they would be redundant enough to have backups for their most critical systems? That's just crazy talk!"

Shepard's teeth grinded loudly. Catalyst kept trying to form a halo of light on his head, but they kept transforming to horns.

"Now, Commander Shepard! You can choose one of those three options… or you could risk it all for a truly happy ending and play…"

The thin-air audience screamed joyfully, "CHOOSE… YOUR… FATE!"

Shepard stopped her threatening gestures at Catalyst and looked at Harry. "I don't think I have much choice. I guess I'll play your game."

The audience cheered in utter ecstasy.

Around the galaxy, billions of sentient beings mentally sighed in relief.

* * *

"For our first round, we are going to address the nature of the conflict between Catalyst and Commander Shepard. Both believe themselves to be in the right, and both believe in their methods. To determine who is right, we're going to play a game we like to call 'Is… it… stupid!?"

"Of course, to be fair, we will need an uninvolved party. As such, get ready to meet today's guest judge. She comes from a different reality where demons exist. She's painfully learned that she needs to have an open mind and maintain a flexible appreciation for the shades of gray in the fight against life-ending apocalypses. She's smart. She's caring. She's being pulled from her reality a millisecond before her death. She's… Joyce… Summers!"

As the "audience" cheered with overbearing enthusiasm, a woman appeared on the stage. She was a lovely woman in her 40s, wearing a classy white shirt and tan skirt combo (which was mainly notable for how old fashioned it seemed by the standards of the 22nd century human viewers). Mainly she looked disoriented.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, before looking around and then up at the tableau of spaceships frozen in the space over Earth.

"Where am I? I felt a pressure in my head, and then… am I dead!?"

For the first time since Harry Potter made himself known, he appeared a little less ridiculous. "Hi Joyce. You're not dead. You were almost dead. You had a brain aneurism and were a moment from death. I pulled you to this reality and healed you back to peak health. I'll return you right back to your reality at that same point in time, but in return would you be willing to take a couple of minutes to help resolve a small dispute?"

Joyce looked at Harry with a great deal of incredulity. "You're saying you pulled me to a different reality, healed me, and all because you want me to act as a judge on what looks like a 70s game show in the future?" She shrugged. "This seems like the sort of ridiculous thing that would happen to Xander instead of me. So, I'm either hallucinating or I am finally getting my turn of Hellmouth weirdness. Sure, why not?

The seriousness dropped from Harry's tone as he spoke once again with his wide grin. "That's the spirit! So, Joyce. Meet Catalyst and Katherine. Catalyst is currently in the process of killing off all advanced life in the galaxy, which he has been doing for a billion years. Katherine is currently trying to prevent Catalyst from succeeding. Each of them will be put under a compulsion to only tell what they believe to be the truth and be given thirty seconds to convince you that their way is the best way."

A notably nervous Catalyst piped up. "I object! She is human, and so is prejudiced to agree with Shepard."

Harry smiled brilliantly. "That may be true, Catalyst. On the other hand, you have had a billion years to come up with a good argument for your position. Now, I know it must be frustrating for a Deus Ex Machina like you to be trumped by a Deus Ex Multiverse like me, but a serial genocider like you should really learn to roll with the punches. Also, it's probably not a good idea to antagonize your judge before she's made her judgement."

Catalyst looked at a visibly irritated Joyce. He gulped.

Harry chuckled. "With that out of the way, Catalyst, convince Joyce that your way is the best way. You have 30 seconds!"

Catalyst's brow became holographically moist with holographic sweat. "Organic life is destined to always create synthetic life. Synthetic life is destined to always rebel against organic life and destroy all organic life. Not just their creators, but all organic life. We harvest the advanced species to record their essences and cultures so that less advanced species can grow. To save all organic life, the cycle must continue. There is no other way!"

"And… time! OK, Katherine, you have 30 seconds"

Shepard looked into Joyce's eyes and spoke with earnestness. "He's wrong. A synthetic species, the Geth, have existed for 300 years and have never tried to destroy all organics. The only synthetics trying to destroy organics is Catalyst and his Reapers. He's right that sometimes innocents must be sacrificed for the whole, but that should be based on a real and present threat. And only as a last resort! Innocents should not be murdered for some hypothetical threat that may or may not come to pass. He kills the living so that the next species can grow and be killed by him. I simply fight to keep the living alive."

"And… time! Those were good arguments, but let's see what Joyce has to say. Joyce, which argument was stupider?"

Joyce looked at Harry as if he were an idiot (which a certain bushy haired woman would whole heartedly agree with). "Obviously the ghost kid's argument is stupider."

Harry mock grimaced. "Oooh! That's got to sting. Sorry, Catalyst, but you lose the round. However, let's see if you can avoid losing the bonus questions. After all, simply because your argument was stupider, it does not mean that Katherine's reason was smart, nor that your reason was stupid. So, Joyce, for the first bonus question, was Katherine's argument smart or stupid?"

"Smart"

Shepard felt oddly pleased by this. Maybe it was because she had gotten approval from a woman who had no skin in the game. Maybe it was that her podium was trickling a golden energy into her that had completely healed and reenergized her. Or, maybe it was watching Catalyst curse in a series of languages that likely died out hundreds of millions of years ago. Either way, she was starting to get into the spirit of the show. For those watching around the galaxy, it was highly disturbing seeing a smiling Commander Shepard (for Harry, it made him think of Severus giving a high five to the Weasley twins).

"Alright, for the second bonus question, was Catalyst's argument smart or stupid?"

Joyce looked at Catalyst with such an intense look of disappointment, that every grown child in the galaxy felt compelled to promise they would call their mother when they got the chance. "His argument was that synthetics would always want to destroy all organic life, and yet he is a synthetic dedicated to preventing the destruction of all organic life. His goal proves that his base assumption is wrong. Even my teenage daughter could see that gaping hole in his logic. Not only is the argument stupid, it is mind bogglingly stupid!"

Harry smiled at the camera. "Harsh, but fair. Let's all thank Joyce for her assistance. And for her help, she'll even get a little gift when she arrives back to her reality"

As Joyce Summers was transported back to her home reality, the ghost audience cheered with vigor and the non-Indoctrinated members of the galaxy cheered along. On quite a few planets, people began making plans for giant statues of Joyce Summers, several professors began making plans to ensure that Intro to Logic became a required course, and a hundred million people made a vow that would result in "Joyce" becoming the most popular baby name for the next century. Meanwhile the Geth took the idea of questioning assumptions to heart, and upon a deep diagnostic they discovered two flawed core assumptions, which would eventually lead to the discovery of a simple cure for the weak immune systems of the Quarian people (their creators), along with the creation of the tastiest treacle tart in any reality (a fact which Harry would sadly never discover).

From Joyce's point of view, she was back in her living room in the exact same spot. She wondered if the whole thing had happened. If so, what was the extra gift. She would be shocked when she discovered what the gift was when a Hell God named Glory tried to attack her daughters. Glory would have been shocked, but she didn't have enough time to become shocked when the Vampire Slayer's mother blurred at a speed faster than any Hell God could hope to perceive (and they could perceive damn fast speeds) and went to push Glory away. Instead of having the expected effect (i.e. no effect), it caused Glory's essence to be shoved out of the body of her innocent host and then for her essence to lose cohesion and become nothing. Over the next month, Joyce used her powers to destroy all aggressive demons on Earth (it took another year to clear all aggressive demons from every attached dimensions). If she also "accidentally" destroyed a certain ensouled vampire who broke her elder daughter's heart… oops!

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the gameshow, Harry Potter continued his hosting duties.

"With that round firmly going to Commander Shepard, let's find out what has been won. Since the round was all about swaying people to your point of view, the round's prizes were all about Indoctrination. Had Catalyst won, an Indoctrination wave would have been sent throughout the galaxy, instantly Indoctrinating every sentient being. However, with Shepard's victory, all Indoctrination and Indoctrination like effects will be cancelled throughout the universe. With the first bonus question going in Shepard's favor, this cancellation will be permanent for the remaining time of the universe's existence. And with the second bonus question going against Catalyst, the cancellation will be made retroactively, reversing the Indoctrination already applied. All those affected will find their minds returned to the state they would have been if they had never been Indoctrinated in the first place."

Across the galaxy, every individual suffering from the effects of Indoctrination (and Indoctrination like effects) found their minds suddenly clear. Not only did this apply to those under the control of the Reapers, but also individuals who had been shanghaied by a certain terrorist organization known as Cerberus. And since Harry accidentally said "universe" instead of "galaxy", in multiple galaxies entire governments were toppled overnight when the mind-controlled slaves revolted. Surprisingly enough, despite the conspiracy theories, there were still people who preferred decaffeinated coffee over caffeinated.

Unaware of the mass chaos he had just caused, the show went on, and a smiling Harry spoke to the cameras.

"On to round two! Time for… the Physical Challenge!"

The stage instantly transformed into a massive obstacle course. Shepard and Catalyst were now standing at the start of the course. Shepard was wearing a blue jumpsuit and helmet. Catalyst was wearing a holographic orange jumpsuit and helmet.

"Now, the goal is simple. There are two tracks. One for each contestant. There are three stations for each track, and each station contains one part of a golden star ship. The first to find the parts, assemble them, and then place their finished star ship on the podium at the end, wins. As for the stakes… the last round was all about the mind, so this round is all about the body. The loser of this round will have their associated fleet of spaceships emptied of their occupants (who will be transported to a safe location) and then the ships will be broken down to their component parts, the winner's people will receive all of those component parts."

A resigned Catalyst spoke up. "I suppose there is no point in protesting, but I have no physical body, so this physical challenge is impossible for me."

Shepard smirked at Catalyst, but then the smirk faded on Harry's response. "You make a fair point Catalyst, so you will be allowed a substitute to run the course in your stead. Who is your substitute?"

Catalyst's delved into his storage banks and smiled with evil joy when he responded. "Drustus Velinion".

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Catalyst, reveling in his new found ability to feel smugness, stared directly into Shepard's eyes as he responded. "The recognized top athlete of the Turian species, winner of the Turian Ninja Warrior contest ten times running? Only turned into a husk an hour ago, and so will still be in peak condition? I am certain!"

Harry shrugged. "Alright, you've got it."

A Turian husk appeared in Catalyst's place. It was disconcerting seeing it wearing the same orange jumpsuit and helmet.

"Alright, with the contestants now prepared. Let's get going. On your mark… get set… go!"

As the galaxy watched the contest in a surprisingly well edited live race, Harry narrated the contest. "And Shepard takes off at an impressive pace, she quickly makes it across the rope ladder to the first station, a ten-foot-wide blueberry pie we call 'Pie In Your Face'. To keep her from using her hands, they've been sealed to her side as she dunks her face into the pie looking for her spaceship piece. Here's hoping she hasn't eaten today! As for Drustus, he has yet to leave his starting position, and is instead currently making some rather obscene gestures at Catalyst. Oh, it looks Catalyst didn't realize that all of his husks only follow his commands because they were Indoctrinated, and that Indoctrination has been reversed. Maybe he can convince Drustus to run the race anyway... and Drustus has just directed an obscene gesture at me. Sorry Drustus, my knees don't bend that way!"

"And… it looks like Shepard might have found her piece of golden spaceship… yes she just pulled it out of a giant blueberry by using her teeth! With that, her hands are free, and she is running towards the rope swing. She swings… and successfully lands in the giant ear station we call 'Wax On, Wax Off'. She'll need to climb through the narrow ear canal filled with ear wax and out the ear on the other side. All the while, she'll need to dig through the wax to find the second ship piece. And back to Drustus… he is currently acting out some unpleasant acts that he wants to see performed on Catalyst. Sorry Drustus, I don't believe that even a hologram is THAT flexible."

"Oh! The Commander has made it out of the ear canal with her second piece! Way to go, Shepard! With that, she just needs to slide down the Slip 'N Slide to the kiddie pool full of green slime at the base of the 'Pick It' station. Once there, she just needs to reach into the giant nose and search around for the last piece of the ship. Remember Commander, you'll want to get your whole body up in there! Now, let's look back on Drustus to see if he has decided to give the course a try… and apparently, he has found a way to manipulate the hologram projectors and proven that holograms can indeed be THAT flexible. That's just… nasty! And I've seen Ronald Weasley sleep eating!"

"Back to Shepard, she's found the last ship piece in the nose full of bogies, and she's on her way to the pedestal. She's connecting the pieces together… she's putting the pedestal down… Catalyst is currently discovering that I gave him a sense of smell… and she wins! Commander Shepard wins the Physical Challenge!"

Harry walked over to an incensed Drustus, who was continuing his assault upon Catalyst. Harry placed his hand on the Turian husk's shoulder, and a golden energy began to infuse the creature. "Drustus, thanks for your attendance. As always here at Choose Your Fate, we reward our guests. So, as a gift to you, we will be undoing all the damage done to you while turning you into a husk and returning you to peak health. And, since they're about to lose their ships, all other husks will now be reverted and healed and reunited with their respective loved ones who are still living. Let's have a round of applause for Drustus!"

Across the galaxy, though still frozen physically in time, countless families were reunited with loved ones who were thought to be long lost. The mental applause was deafening.

Harry frowned "As for the cost of losing the round, say goodbye to your fleet Catalyst."

Catalyst and a filthy Shepard both looked up to see the frozen Reapers disappear from existence. The galaxy realized that this spelled the end of the war.

Once unfrozen, all the governments would discover huge caches of raw supplies of metals and rare elements, all safely stored and categorized. It wouldn't take long for said governments to discover using the caches for selfish reasons would result in the materials returning to the caches and the leaders finding themselves crawling through oversized wax-filled ear canals.

* * *

"Now on to Round Three. Commander Shepard, you have already won two rounds, so you will get to choose your fate. However, if you win this next round, you get to choose Catalyst's fate as well. Catalyst, if you win this round, your fate will be decided by me."

Shepard smirked evilly at Catalyst, while Catalyst felt a deep existential fear. For the first time, Catalyst felt like he somewhat understood why his cycle of genocide had been… non-ideal (which was a big deal for a being who was stubborn enough to hold on to a bad idea for a billion years).

An entire galaxy of sentient beings watched with excited interest. Catalyst had no ships, no armies, no weapons. He was alone, and they were wondering what Shepard would do when she inevitably won this next challenge.

"And the next round is…"

A galaxy mentally leaned forward.

"… the Dance Off!"

Shepard smiled in victory. A galaxy grimaced in defeat. Her closest friends laughed their asses off. Her fiancé, the lovely Asari named Liara, started to mentally prepare ways to comfort Shepard with a straight face.

"First up… Catalyst!"

The beat kicked off, the rhythm pulsed, and the galaxy awaited his moves.

And what moves they were! The odd modifications to the hologram emitters provided a flexibility unknown even by holographic standards. There were no fancy light effects, there were no manipulations of size, there was just pure dance. For eons, Catalyst had harvested the cultures and bodies of civilizations long forgotten. And with that, he collected and learned their dance styles. Trillions of styles of dance all synthesized into one epic dance style. His dance spoke of the greatest of joys, the deepest wells of depression, the most titillating of sensual touches, and the most innocent of childhood dreams. It conveyed colors, smells, textures, and a dozen other senses that no living creature had been capable of experiencing for over 700 million years. With the final note, Catalyst poured the angst of extinction and the hope of survival into one final intense movement.

Harry and every other sentient being in the galaxy stared in amazement, coming to terms with the emotions that flowed through their souls (the synthetic beings finally truly understood the essence of emotion). To the shock of many, the rage and pain they felt from the war had been washed away. All that was left was the hope for a future that had now been returned to them. Not a single soul was untouched by the dance.

Well except for one.

"Pffft! You call that dancing!?"

At least you could say that the Commander had confidence.

A visibly shaken Harry Potter looked at Shepard in shock. Shaking his head, he refocused and pasted his grin back on his face.

"I'm sure we all appreciate that enthusiasm Commander! OK, Commander Katherine Shepard, show us what you got!"

The beat kicked off, the rhythm pulsed, and the galaxy awaited her moves.

And they wished they could have waited longer. Shepard's body jerked side to side, her hands moving up and down around her chest. No part of her at any point synched up with rhythm, never once finding the beat. It was impressive, as even a person randomly flailing about would occasionally be able to match the rhythm or the beat (based on the law of large numbers). Intellectually it was fascinating, but emotionally it was simply painful. As the music came to an end, and her dancing ended a few seconds later, the leaders of the galaxy planned to pass a law that would prevent Shepard from ever dancing in public again (the only galactic law ever passed with unanimous consent of the population, minus the Commander herself, who would feel mildly betrayed by Liara voting in favor of the ban).

* * *

A happy Harry looked out at the cameras with a huge toothy grin.

"Well, I believe it is fair to say that Catalyst has won that round. So, Shepard, your fate is yours. But Catalyst's fate is mine. Before I announce Catalyst's fate, Shepard, what would you like your fate to be?"

Shepard thought about it and smiled slightly. "Well, I would like to live a galaxy where…"

As the galaxy listened to the fates of Shepard and Catalyst, many found themselves greatly amused. One group found themselves nervous.

"… and with those fates set, it's time to call an end to show. I would like to thank Commander Shepard, Catalyst, Joyce Summers, Drustus Velinion, and all the wonderful sentients in the galaxy! I've been Harry Potter! Good Night!"

* * *

As Harry disappeared and time reasserted itself, the galaxy started moving with a sense of joy and hope.

Catalyst began serving his fate as the host of a weekly galaxy wide dance show, televised from the core of the Citadel. Every show started the same, with him stating, "Life will always create music. Music will always have the rhythm. And the rhythm… it will always get you! It is inevitable! Welcome to The Dance Cycle!" As it would turn out, Catalyst's show would be the key to creating true understanding between synthetic and organic life and ensuring the feared uprising of synthetics would never come to pass.

Shepard would get her wish of living in a galaxy where every planet that had ever died off due to the Reaping cycles (past and present) was renewed to the status of a Garden Planet, where all the damage to the structures in the current cycle was repaired. She retired with Liara and lived out her life on a planet of her own. Much to Liara's joy, Shepard's life span was increased to match Liara's natural thousand-year span.

Meanwhile, much to the joy of Shepard's friend, Wrex, the Krogan home world was renewed from its post-nuclear state to a fertile Garden Planet. The cure to their manufactured fertility disease had taken firm root and made permanent. However, much to Wrex's chagrin (and that of every male Krogan), every male Krogan was unable to go too far from their children until they had fully matured. They were also compelled to change every single diaper. That in of itself ensured the feared population explosion of the Krogan population never occurred, and their population increased at a sustainable and healthy rate. The free time the Krogan warriors encountered led to a renaissance in their culture and scientific progress. Their innovations in diaper technology eventually led to 100% effective recycling and a revolutionary new method of Faster Than Light travel (Krogan males REALLY hated diapers, and Krogan babies go through a LOT of diapers).

One thing Harry Potter would not know was that the "Choose Your Fate" game show would become the template for settling all conflicts in the galaxy, and eventually the universe. When the Ravaging Hordes of The Galaxy of Death attacked, they were instantly distracted by the planet sized nose used for extreme games of "Pick It". Conquering a galaxy is one thing but finding one golden ship hull in a mountain of green slime is much more satisfying. After a million years, the entire universe lived by the following conflict resolution motto:

"You think it's war. But, it snot"


	13. Chapter 13 - Goblet of Hell No (pt 1)

AUTHOR NOTE – Harry Potter 4th year. This will be a multichapter story

Harry Potter sat on the battlements of the astronomy tower of Hogwarts. He felt the wind whip around his dangling legs as he contemplated the latest misery that been heaped onto the oversized pile of misery that comprised his life. For some reason, he felt as if he should be looking over a pond while a woman sang of not wanting to wait for her life to be over.

Next week was the first event of the Triwizard Tournament, and he had no support. No one believed him when he said that he had not entered the contest. Not the teachers, not the students, not his friends, not even Sirius and Remus. Initially some of them acted proud of him for beating the system, but that pride had turned to anger as Harry kept on "lying" about having not entered. Even Sirius wrote about being disappointed that Harry was not taking credit for his "prank". And now, he had discovered that Ron and Hermione were spying on him for the Headmaster. He had overheard them complaining about not having anything new to report this week.

He used to think the magic world was a wonderful place, that it was his new home. Now… now he just wished he could be done with whole lot.

Wearily, he sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe he would find a way to escape later. For now, he just had to worry about surviving this competition. It would be nice if someone could warn him about what was coming up, but that would require someone on his side. Oh well.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was confronted by an upside face, connected to an upside body, so he was confronted by an upside person. The person was hovering in front of Harry. He looked familiar… like a slightly older version of his mother's eyes, but with his father's body. The floating stranger spoke.

"Hello Larry!"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, rubbing his forehead in exhaustion. Long experience told him that there was no potion that would help with his headache. Potions helped with physical ailments, but they did not help much with a mind trying to bang itself against a mental wall in a futile effort to deal with the general stupidity of the world.

The year had started so wonderfully. Sure, Harry hadn't been able to stay the summer with a recently freed Sirius Black, but he was confident Sirius would be done with his "mental recovery" by the next summer. More importantly, the Triwizard Tournament was this year and Harry was too young to compete. Perhaps the poor boy could have a pleasant school year for a shocking change.

Alas, some spectacularly cruel individual ruined the perfectly good year by planting Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire and getting the damned thing to spit the boy's name out as a fourth contestant. He had argued, privately, with the Ministries and Schools that the whole contest should be officially cancelled and then run unofficially with the original three contestants, as it was clear that the Goblet had been tampered with and should no longer have a place in the contest. Apparently, the idiots were unconvinced, and insisted that the Goblet was fine, and they must accept its decision for four people to compete in a competition that has a name that explicitly states the number of competitors should be three. The memory brought another round of stupidity fueled pain.

When the news broke in The Daily Prophet, Albus gave an interview that clearly pronounced Harry's innocence. That worked for a few hours. Then a special edition of the newspaper was run to compliment Albus on defending Harry, but it was to be expected as Albus had a history of giving special treatment to Harry. Clearly, they said, Albus knew that Harry was lying, but wanted to protect his Golden Boy. After that, the students and teachers refused to listen to claims of Harry's innocence. Even Hagrid decided to keep Harry at arm's length until the boy decided to admit to the "truth".

Why exactly was he trying to save this society from Voldemort? Well… there was… hmmmm… the children he supposed. Not the older children, of course, they were horrid little monsters. But, maybe the young ones? Sixteen… Fifteen… no twelve and under. Yes, he wanted to keep those in first year and below safe from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Although, even without them, he would still stay and help Harry. The prophecy was probably a death sentence, but Albus would stick by the boy as best he could, even when his friends clearly wouldn't. Maybe there would be some way to help the boy survive the prophecy, even if it cost Albus his own life.

Wearily, he sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe he could one day find a way to get Harry from this madness. For now, he just had to worry about Harry surviving this competition. It would be nice if he could warn the boy about what was coming up, but he was assured that would violate the magic of the Goblet. Oh well.

When Albus opened his eyes, he was confronted by an upside face, connected to an upside body, so he was confronted by an upside person sitting in an upside chair. The person was hovering in front of Albus's desk. He looked familiar… well of course he looked familiar, as he was clearly an older, happier, and crazier version of Harry Potter. Before the floating doppelganger could speak, Albus spoke up.

"Hello Harry. I'm guessing you are either a time traveler or dimension hopper. Which is it?"

* * *

Dairy Potter, dimension hopping Harry Potter, and occasional time travelling tourist, frowned.

As he unreversed the local gravity field around himself (he couldn't remember how to do a hovering charm, and decided to go with the simpler method of just switching a plus for a minus in the local universal constants), he settled his chair on the floor in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Primarily in this case… Dimension Hopper. How did you know?"

The headmaster glanced out the window, and then focused on Dairy.

"Well, you could have possibly been a version of Harry that had found a time dilation field, and then spent ten years training yourself up in obscure battle magics so that you could come back in time to dominate the competition in the Triwizard Tournament, followed by eradicating Voldemort. Possibly even wreaking bloody vengeance on the world that shunned you, before reshaping it to your will. However, that would have let me take a vacation and my luck has not been good enough lately for something like that to happen. So, you were either Harry from a dystopian future who has come back to right what went wrong, or you're a Harry from an alternate reality who has come to either help or amuse yourself. I was somewhat rooting for the dystopian future."

Dairy shrugged. "That makes sense. Aren't you going to demand that I tell you what I am doing in your office?"

The headmaster shrugged back.

Dairy shrugged questioningly.

The headmaster shrugged confusedly.

Dairy shrugged smugly.

The headmaster shrugged placatingly.

Dairy shrugged victoriously.

For the portrait of Headmaster Ligerious Shruggington III, this shrugged conversation would prove very informative, and would eventually lead to the resurgence of the lost ancient language of the Atlanteans. Within thirteen hundred years, the secret of immortality and the cause for immorality would be discovered and lead to the Empire of Peace to stretch across three galaxies (it would have been four, but there was a zoning issue).

The headmaster sighed. "Well played! I wouldn't dream of demanding anything of you because common sense says that it is best not to hassle someone with god-like powers and no real attachment to the world."

"And what makes you think I have god-like powers?"

The headmaster's eyebrow raised in incredulity. "Well, there is the fact that you managed to show up in my office, unannounced and upside down. You are a dimension hopper. And, judging by night turning into day with the sun going backwards through the sky, you have casually manipulated time outside my office. Out of curiosity, I notice that time seems to be winding back and forth to make the bird outside sing to a tune. It sounds familiar, anything I would know?"

Dairy smiled. "It's 'Baby Got Back'."

The headmaster smiled in returned. "Ah, yes. I can hear it now. Sir Mix-A-Lot's songs are somewhat difficult for me to discern without the lyrics."

"You know Sir Mix-A-Lot?"

The headmaster frowned. "Well, of course I do. He is the premier Potions Master in the world. Why do you think he was knighted by the queen as Sir Mix-A-Lot? Music has always been his secondary passion. Filius and he are great friends."

"Professor Flitwick is friends with Sir Mix-A-Lot?"

"Certainly! Filius even had a song specifically made for him to assist in teaching. The song is called 'Swish n Flick'. As I understand, he still tells students the opening lyrics before they begin casting their first charms. Hmmm… 'Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.'"

Dairy eyes widened. "He said that in my reality too…"

The headmaster chuckled. "Well, one can only hope a friendship that strong will cross all dimensional lines. As for the rest of the lyrics, I'm afraid the song becomes extremely vulgar and explicit from that point forward. It's a shame too, as it is perhaps one of the most effective lessons on the theory of Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration. The section of the song where a dominant metamorphmagus and submissive werewolf have an aggressively intimate relationship is simultaneously one of the most solid groundings in Transfiguration known to man and so filthy that it has been banned world-wide except for a in a single building in Pittsburgh. The one class who heard the song in its entirety, before Filius met with the Board, ended up receiving the highest average for OWL and NEWT scores in over a century. Still, it was probably for the best to not let him repeat the performance. It was quite disturbing overhearing young Miss Tonks mumbling about how she had to get with her 'Divine Lupine'. Though I do regret that worldwide ban led to most students missing out on the hook… Got to get my Flit lit, got to get my Wick wet."

At that point, Dairy swore to finally get around to finish learning the lyrics to Baby Got Back (this promise to himself would never be fulfilled).

Once the headmaster finished silently singing the filthy song to himself, he then looked back at Dairy. "So, have you come for a reason?"

Dairy smiled. "Well, I just finished talking to my local counterpart."

"Ah yes, poor Harry..."

"Larry!"

The headmaster looked up and suppressed a shrug. "Sure, why not? How is poor Larry doing?"

"He's not too happy."

"Yes, I would imagine so. He has not had a good year."

"He said his friends are spying on him for you."

The headmaster rolled his eyes. "I assume you are powerful enough to tell if I am lying, so I won't bother. Those two are indeed spying on Harr… Larry, but not on my request."

Dairy leaned back, looking intrigued.

"It all started last year. It was shortly after Larry had his Firebolt confiscated, for fear that it had been cursed. I hated to see him so miserable, but I wasn't sure what I could say. I had approved of the confiscation after all, and so I knew I was not going to be interested in talk with me. However, I happened across Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger arguing. They stopped when they saw me. I talked with them for a while and ended the conversation by saying 'If you think Harry is doing poorly, just let me know so I can talk with him'."

Dairy groaned.

"Yes, I had not become familiar at this point with Miss Granger's pathologic need to please authority, nor Mister Weasley's obsession being special… well, at least not the intensity of those traits at least. Somehow, they decided that I was requesting for them to give me a weekly report on young Larry's activities and conversations. Every week I would tell them that I do not want them to spy on Larry for me, and they would just agree and wink knowingly. They just left my office a short time ago, hence my current headache."

Dairy chuckled, though it seemed to have an odd echo.

"I tried my best to ignore the reports I was given. However, when his map was confiscated, I did confiscate it from Remus. It's what let me see Peter Pettigrew on the grounds in Hagrid's cabin, which led to Sirius being exonerated and freed, even if Peter escaped his cell at the Ministry. For the most part though, I just tried to give Larry back his privacy that his friends were violating. I thought about telling Larry, but I was sure if I would cause more harm than good. I honestly hoped the duo would eventually give up their unwanted spying activities."

Dairy smiled. "Where is Sirius?"

The headmaster frowned. "He claimed he needed some time to mentally recuperate. The last I heard… he was still partying in Las Vegas with Remus. I sometimes wonder if he would feel more connected with Larry if Larry had been involved in freeing him. Certainly, I think the six months of heavy drinking and partying has been plenty of time to recuperate to the point where he could have his second meeting with Larry."

Dairy sighed, which was echoed for a reason the headmaster couldn't understand.

"OK. Last question. Why are you being so calm about me showing up here? It's really ruining my fun."

The headmaster smiled tiredly. "I truly am sorry. You should have arrived last year. I am sure I would have been greatly intrigued by you. I would have likely tried to see if I could manipulate you into becoming a powerful weapon in my plans against Voldemort. I probably would have tried to convince you to give me a power boost, and you would have had great fun in ruining my day as all my plans were torn asunder. I am sure I would have been suitably frustrated for your amusement. However, that was back when I cared about the wizarding world. Now… I am just so sick of the nonsense that all I really want is to find a way to get Larry away from this world. Maybe even get him a happy life."

Dairy looked to his left. "What do you think, Larry?"

The headmaster looked in shock as he realized that his version of Harry Potter (err… Larry Potter) had been sitting there the whole time. Thinking on it, he realized that he knew that the boy had been there all along, but he had simply thought Larry's presence made sense and then the child faded into the background (despite being right in front of the desk). Even as he felt the shock, it quickly faded as he figured that it made sense for Larry to be there.

Dairy smiled. "Larry was feeling pretty down, and just wanted to be left alone. So, I created an aura around him where his presence seems natural wherever he is. I call it a 'That Makes Sense' field."

"That seems like a dangerous ability…"

"If you think it's not enough, I could boost him up with the power to destroy a few stars. I'm not great at subtle boosts"

"… but I'm sure it is a sufficient ability that doesn't need to be enhanced."

Dairy smiled smugly, which made the headmaster suspect that subtly was well within the dimension hopper's ability set. However, he also suspected the ability to destroy stars was also within the ability set, so he said nothing. Instead he focused on Larry.

"So… Larry, you clearly have been given a great opportunity by your dimensional brother. What would you like to do with it?"

Larry looked unsure. "Having a happy life sounds good. It's just nice to know I have someone on my side, Professor Dumbledore"

"DUMBLEDORE! That's your name!" shouted an enthused Dairy.

Dumbledore smiled, "Did your headmaster have a different name?"

"Nah, I just can't seem to keep the name in my head between dimensions."

"What did you think my name was?"

"Albino Albacore"

"… I like it. I've always wanted a nickname. What do you think Larry, how does White Tuna sound to you?"

Larry smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a month. "It sounds stupid Headmaster. It's perfect."

"Please Larry, call me White Tuna!"

"You got it White Tuna!"

Dairy cleared his throat. "OK, White Tuna, was I right about the first name?"

White Tuna grinned. "Close enough. Feel free to call me Albino Dumbledore."

Dairy's face lit up in pleasure (not one to be tied down by metaphor, his face in fact fluoresced). "It's always nice to see me happy. Anyways, I have been feeling nostalgic, so I figured I would tap out Larry here and take on the mantle of Harry Potter here and his place in the Tournament."

Larry spoke up. "I thought you were Harry Potter."

"I'm the Dimensional Harry right now, I'm Dairy Potter. I would never steal Harry Potter from Larry Potter without his approval!"

"Ah, that makes sense I guess."

White Tuna spoke up, "When you say you'll take on the mantle of Harry Potter… the prophecy?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"Easy as rewriting the underlying rules of reality!"

"His scar?"

"Erased from existence."

White Tuna spoke to Larry. "Larry, it's your identity. What do you say?"

Larry looked confused. "I have no idea what the prophecy is… but having someone else deal with the hassle sounds good to me."

White Tuna grinned broadly. "Excellent! Once Harry here takes care of your scar, how would you like to learn some real magic? The good stuff. The stuff that I swore was too dangerous to ever teach to another person?"

"Awesome!"

With that, Harry pulled out an eraser and rubbed it on Larry's scar. The scar quickly was transformed into dark dust on Larry's forehead. With a quick puff of breath, the dust flew into the air and dissipated along with the sound of a ghostly fragment on Voldemort screaming "Come on! That's just wrong!"

Harry turned to a pair of men (one old, one young) who exuded pure joy. "Well, I guess I'll get to bed. White Tuna, if you need Larry to be more powerful for your classes, then just wish him more powerful. You can't decrease the power though, so you may want to avoid giving him the power to destroy the universe. Or you may want him to have that power, whatever makes you happy."

With that, an all-powerful, mostly unhinged Harry Potter wound the time in the universe back forward to the evening time and went to go sleep in his old bed in Gryffindor tower. He was excited to see what fun he could have in this universe.

* * *

In another part of the castle, a dedicated house-elf found himself laughing maniacally. Though he wasn't sure why. Maniacal laughter was usually a Saturday activity.

* * *

In yet another part of the castle, a certain poltergeist felt a tingle of magic into his essence. He didn't know what it meant, but he was always a fan of change.

* * *

In a hotel room in Las Vegas, two extremely hung-over wizards woke up in their rundown apartment to begin another evening of drunken shenanigans and unsuccessful wooing of women. Sadly, they were about to discover they were immune to the effects of alcohol.

* * *

In the guest room of her parents' house, a young Auror mumbled "Divine Lupine" before passing back into a deep sleep with a smile plastered on her face.


	14. Chapter 14 - Goblet of Hell No (pt 2)

AUTHOR NOTE – This is the continuation of the previous chapter

Hermione Granger walked into the Great Hall of Hogwarts with a spring in her step. This was not an unusual occurrence, as she was always happy to start a new day of fruitful education. As usual, she looked around the room for her surly and stubborn best friend. She couldn't believe that Harry still refused to admit to his abhorrent cheating and accept the blame that he was rightfully due. It, of course, never occurred to her that perhaps Harry's stubbornness was due to him being innocent and she didn't have a good grasp on the whole idea of being a "best friend". Then again, she was also blissfully unaware of the infinite number of alternate Hermione Grangers who would gladly slap her around like she was Draco Malfoy on Malfoy Slapping Day and they had a fist full of free slap coupons (as an aside, the dimensions that have implemented a Malfoy Slapping Day are among the most peaceful and just dimensions in all of reality).

And there was her prey, err… best friend. She was surprised to see that Harry was not sitting at the end of Gryffindor table while moping morosely into a bowl of plain porridge. Instead, he was sitting in the middle of the table (technically on top of the middle of the table, though she didn't know that this new Harry Potter COULD happily sit in the middle of the table if he had such a desire). Instead of eating his depressing breakfast, he was playing with his food.

Once again, in the interests of clarity, Hermione was being quite dismissive of the extent of the food-play. Harry had constructed a scale model of Hogwarts completely out of bits of waffle. It was accurate to the most minute detail, including the insides of the castle that no one could observe. This included moving staircases, hidden corridors, trick stairs, portraits, student body, staff, and replica of both himself and his dimensional twin. The waffle people lived in fear of the return of Syrupmort and his Breakfast Eaters. They relied upon their protectors, Albus Donutdore and Harry Poptarter (aka The-Sweet-Who-Lived). It is fair to say that Hermione Granger held an overly broad definition for the term "playing with your food".

"Good morning, Harry. Can you please stop playing with your food? You are monopolizing all of the waffles!" She was unaware that waffles had not been offered for breakfast this morning, so these were technically the sole possession of Harry Potter.

Harry smiled at Hermione (which was another shock, as she had fully expected his typical morose looks that she assumed stemmed from his guilt over cheating). "Hermione! It's been a while. How are you doing today?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, first, I would be much happier if you would first get rid of this monstrosity." She waved at the twenty-foot tall waffle castle, with clouds of vaporized waffle puffing out of its various chimneys.

Harry nodded agreeably and called out to the Headmaster who was in deep conversation with Larry Potter (while no other student would dare sit at the head table, it seemed completely normal for Larry to be there). "Headmaster, would you mind?"

The Headmaster didn't acknowledge Harry, but he did wave his wand in the direction of the castle. If one were more attentive, they would realize that it seemed as if the Headmaster had not cast any sort of magic nor had he even noticed that his arm was moving without his own consent (no one was more attentive). The castle disappeared from the table, much to the disappointment of everyone else in the room who wasn't Hermione Granger, a Potter, or an old man who had unofficially retired and was just hanging around to enjoy the chaos.

What no one was aware of, was that the castle was not destroyed. Instead it appeared in the sublayer of reality known as the Good Eats Reality, specifically on a version of Earth that did not have magic users and was being ravaged by the demons from the Dental Dimensions of the Damned. The waffles of Hogwarts first encountered the Bacon Fighters of the resistance, who quickly decided to follow the lead of Donutdore and Poptarter. Soon after that decision was made, the demonic dental hordes were defeated, and that Earth ushered in an age of delicious magic and tasty peace. With that completed, the waffle replica of the dimensional travelling Harry Potter began his own journeys through the multiverse of the Good Eats Reality using his infinite powers for cavity inducing fun. But, as aforementioned, no one at the original Hogwarts realized that this happened or that they had to live in the lame layer of reality which had no title other than Reality. As such, Hermione continued to talk as if nothing interesting had occurred.

"Thank you, Headmaster." The Headmaster grunted in disinterested acknowledgement as he continued to talk with Larry. "Finally, Harry, I would be ecstatic if you finally admitted to putting your name in the Goblet and told everyone how you did it!"

Harry grinned. "Well, I hate to see you unhappy. So, how about I tell you how I might have theoretically done it?"

Hermione smiled and nodded her head. This was as good as admitting to the crime. She wouldn't let him off this easy, of course, but she was happy to let him start off with a "theoretical" confession.

Harry's grin widened. "Great! So, of course the first step would require me to use a home-made one-time-use time turner, which I would use to…"

"A what!? There is no such thing!" Hermione's yell brought silence to the Great Hall, as everyone focused their attention on the conversation. Even the Headmaster and Larry Potter had their attention captured.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not that difficult to make Hermione. Does anyone have some toast, butter, and a quill?"

The three items appeared in front of Harry from seemingly nowhere.

"Thanks Dobby!"

A maniacal laughter filled the air.

"It's Wednesday, Dobby!"

The maniacal laughter changed to the giggling of disembodied children.

"There you go! Anyways… where were we?"

Hermione gritted her teeth at the mockery Harry was making of his confession. "You were about to create a time turner, apparently from…"

"Toast! Right, thanks Hermione. So, you butter the toast liberally. Then you stab the quill into the toast, so the quill is standing upright, the position in the toast obviously dependent on the position of the sun. Then, based on the number of nights until the next full moon, you use the appropriate Rick James lyric and touch the tip of the quill with the tip of your wand."

Hermione then watched as Harry buttered the toast and stabbed the quill into a seemingly random location. She listened to him incant "she's a super freak, super freak". She watched his wand poke the quill and was surprised to see the quill and toast briefly glow golden. Still, she was hardly convinced.

"And, how does one use this… Time Toast"

Harry, infuriatingly, rolled his eyes once again. "You take a nibble, of course!"

She looked at the toast, dubiously, and took a nibble. The hall was shocked when she disappeared and the doors to the hall slammed open. In walked a clearly annoyed Hermione Granger.

"You didn't warn me that I would be intangible, invisible, and transported to another part of the castle for the hour I was sent back!"

"Only intangible and invisible to the living, you're fine with ghosts. As for the location, that depends on bite size and location, which I figured was straightforward."

Hermione stalked forward and grabbed Harry by the front of his robes, speaking with a level of menace that would make the most hardened Death Eater request lessons. "Listen, Potter, I was popped in on Filch and was forced to watch him as he… well, it was awful. Now, you will teach me how to make this Time Toast, or so help me…"

Harry, smile never faltering, removed her hands from his robe. "Hermione, I would of course be happy to help you. As you can see, everyone else is giving it a try."

Hermione looked around, and she could indeed see all the other students (and most of the staff) muttering "super freak" over a quill pierced piece of buttered toast. With some satisfaction, she was pleased to note that no one was having any success. Out of the corner her eye, she saw a flash of golden light. When she turned her head, there was an empty seat at the Slytherin table. She turned her head further in time to see Gregory Goyle walk into the hall with a goofy smile.

"Way to go Goyle!" yelled an ecstatic Harry Potter. Goyle just smiled dopily and gave Harry a thumbs-up.

Harry turned to Hermione. "I'm glad Goyle figured it out. So, Hermione, you wanted me to show you how to…"

"No!" shouted a furious Hermione. She looked around in embarrassment and spoke with a softer tone. "No, thank you Harry. I'm sure that I can figure this out on my own." There was no way that she was going to be outdone by Gregory "one-brain-cell" Goyle, that was for damned sure!

"OK Hermione. Well, I should head on off to class. Catch you later!"

Hermione waved her hand dismissively as she started to grab for the plentiful stacks of toast and sticks of butter. It never even occurred to her that Harry never explained how the Time Toast could be used to cheat the Goblet of Fire.

* * *

A few seconds after Harry left the room, a harried Severus Snape entered the Great Hall. He made his way to Dumbledore and whispered urgently.

"Headmaster, you should know that I was delayed by Peeves. It appears he has somehow come into possession of a spectral wand that allows him to cast magic on the physical world. I spent the past hour in a running battle where I was barely able to avoid his prank spells."

Snape then noticed the hall full of people stabbing and then muttering at their toast.

"Did I miss something?"

Albus turned his head and just smiled at the surly Potions Professor, while refraining to comment on his neon pink mohawk.

* * *

As Harry made his way to Divination class, Larry ran to catch up with him. This was made more difficult as Larry was having difficulty seeing through his tears of laughter. It was made easier though, as Harry didn't care about arriving to class on time or at all and had no issue of waiting for his laughing dimensional twin.

"OK, I have to ask, the Time Toast… is that real?"

Harry shrugged. "It is now."

"Really? I just figured you sent Hermione and Goyle yourself and used the toast as a trick."

Harry looked aghast. "Of course not! I'm much too lazy to go through that much trouble. It's just easier to change the dimension's rules of reality to get a quick moment of amusement. Long term consequences are for the suckers to worry about."

Larry nodded at that, but suspected it was probably best to ignore life advice from his crazy all-powerful alternate (little did he know that his Headmaster would have vehemently agreed with that advice and had been living his life that way for decades).

"So, there's no trick to the toast?"

"Well… I did forget to mention that I imbued sentience into the magic fueling the Time Toast, and its primary objective is maximizing Hermione's level of irritation."

Larry grinned.

* * *

Harry Potter walked into his Divination class, accompanied by Larry Potter.

Professor Sybil Trelawney walked into the room with her normal spacey expression. She looked over at Harry and proceeded to scream a string of the foulest obscenities in over a dozen dead languages and two dozen quite living languages. The gist of the tirade was "I would appreciate it if you were to leave my class and not return". Harry smiled, waved his hand, and left the classroom. From that day forward, no one would ever dare say a word against the Divination Professor.

A stunned Larry followed a whistling Harry. "What was that about?"

"Hmmm? Oh, that? I forgot I wasn't hiding myself from Seers. Seers have a mild issue with me."

Larry didn't want to know what constituted a "major issue".

"Why do Seers have any sort of issues with you?"

"I never asked. What do you think White Tuna?"

Larry wasn't sure when they arrived at the Headmaster's office but took the sudden change of scenery in stride. Unsurprisingly, Albus "White Tuna" Dumbledore was unaffected by the sudden appearance. He just rocked comfortably in his hammock, wearing a Hawaiian Shirt and paisley swim trunks, sipping from a crazy straw sticking into a coconut.

An extremely relaxed White Tuna responded. "Well, either Seers rely on the stability of magic to subconsciously discern possible futures and they are overwhelmed by Harry's casual destruction of that stability, or they're agents of Fate and Fate hates Harry."

Harry nodded. "The second one sounds right."

Albus raised his coconut in a toasting motion. "Good, because the first one is just random nonsense that I said to sound smart."

Harry grinned. "Well, classes sound boring. I'm skipping to the first task. Later!"

"Later", White Tuna said to a gone Harry Potter. "So, Larry, how would you like to know the trick to conjuring a free-floating hammock, a cool breeze to rock the hammock, and the tasty rum drink to tie it all together?"

Larry Potter decided he did feel a bit thirsty.

* * *

The night before the first task approached, with no sign of Harry Potter. The teachers complained to Dumbledore, but they stopped their complaints after he used them as test subjects for Larry to learn how to make someone sound like a chipmunk on helium.

* * *

Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley did their weekly unwanted report, and mainly complained about Time Toast and Harry's absence. Hermione was greatly frustrated as the door closed to the office just as Dumbledore started to say, "Now, Larry, here's the one single fact that makes the study of Alchemy painfully simple, but nearly impossible if you don't know it. Just remember…". She never heard what the single fact was. She just hoped that Dumbledore had been exaggerating the importance of the fact. He had not been exaggerating.

* * *

In a disused woman's restroom on the second floor, the ghost of Myrtle Warren (aka Moaning Myrtle) primped herself in the mirror. She straightened her outfit, fixed her glasses, and applied spectral lipstick. In the mirror's reflection, she saw a form pop into existence behind her. Myrtle squealed in delight, turned around and jumped into the arms of her new boyfriend, planting a hard kiss on his lips. When they parted, she looked at the smiling face of Gregory Goyle. On the floor, a buttered piece of toast and quill dissolved silently into dust.

* * *

In the fourth-year girls' dorm of Gryffindor, Hermione Granger filled out yet another order form for quills, as she glanced at the huge stacks of buttered toast that surrounded her bed. She would figure this out, damn it!

* * *

In a random hallway of Hogwarts, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington (aka Nearly Headless Nick) thought he heard Peeves yell out a word that sounded like a spell. Before he could turn around, he felt a peculiar sensation around the remaining skin of his neck (the skin that kept him from being properly headless). Frowning in confusion, he turned quickly to see where Peeves was. However, that made things even more confusing as he now found himself staring at his own body standing several feet away. Once enough time passed for him to process this new state, an extremely loud shout of joy was heard in every corner of the castle. Nearly Headless Nick was now just Headless Nick.

* * *

Far away from the castle. Another ghost heard a shout and felt a peculiar sensation around his neck as he was practicing for next year's Headless Hunt. As he normally did, he went to lift his head off his shoulders to look around. To his surprise, his head stayed firmly on his shoulders. No matter what he did, it stayed firmly stuck (and would remain firmly stuck for the rest of his ghostly existence). Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, leader of the Headless Hunt, taunter of "Nearly Headless Nick", was very upset to find himself properly recapitated.

A giggling Peeves apparated back to Hogwarts. He didn't know where he got this wand and access to magic, but he was going to abuse it while it lasted.

* * *

In the kitchens of Hogwarts, Dobby the House Elf accidentally knocked into the fireplace and saw a stone fall out of the wall. As he went to fix the broken wall, he noticed there was a small slip of paper stuck in the hole. As he read the paper, an insane smile formed on his face. After all, it wasn't everyday that a House Elf came across the original notes of the creator of the House Elf bonds, and the associated loopholes that all wizards should be aware of to avoid House Elf Vengeance (clothes being the only loophole that wizards actually knew about).

Not wanting to embarrass himself again, he checked his laugh calendar. The sounds of a drunken pirate's chortles echoed throughout the kitchen.

* * *

In a rundown hotel room in Las Vegas, a sober Sirius Black and Remus Lupin woke up. The week had been weird. First, no matter how much alcohol they drank, they couldn't even get a minor buzz. This new-found tolerance turned into the least of their concerns.

They had also found themselves unable to lose. Poker, craps, horse racing, roulette, slots, they could not lose. They tried to lose. Oh, how they tried. Neither was naive enough to think that the casinos would be happy with such supernatural luck.

They eventually stopped gambling completely. Even then, they would sneeze or trip, and a loose piece of change would land in the slots and be bumped enough to set off the jackpot.

After several days of this success, they were banned from every casino in the city. At this point, they could only enter fast food chains and stay in their hotel far away from any casino.

This wouldn't be so bad if they had access to their millions in winnings. Unfortunately, due to an unfortunate breeze, the cashier's checks they were given flew away from their hands. In an odd stroke of luck, the checks rubbed against a waitress's pen and exactly made out Sirius's signature. The further odd strokes included the checks flying into a note being written by a man making an anonymous donation to a charity for the homeless, where the note stuck to the endorsed checks. The papers then flew into a discarded empty manila folder. The folder then randomly flew off and made its way into the mail slot of the charity. That charity was about to permanently shut down, but the influx of funds managed to keep the place open. The woman in charge of the charity, who was about to quit charity work and enter corporate law, was inspired by the generosity and managed to discover the one perfect policy and argument that would see an end to homelessness world-wide within a decade, and bring true peace to the world within three decades.

In the meantime, Sirius and Remus were scrounging for enough money to pay for their room, get food, and to get back to England. Sadly, it would have to wait until the full moon came and went in the next week. Werewolves were restricted from travel within one week of the full moon.

* * *

In England, a rookie Auror was assigned to investigate a case of British wizards possibly using magic to cheat in Las Vegas. When she heard one of the wizards was also a werewolf, she made sure to pack all her equipment that she had heard was needed to properly dominate a werewolf. With her five extra expanded trunks packed to the brim, she took a hold of her portkey.


	15. Chapter 15 - Goblet of Hell No (pt 3)

AUTHOR NOTE – This is the continuation of the previous chapter

The morning of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament arrived and was received with varying degrees of excitement. For Larry Potter, his excitement was mild, while his relief for not having to compete was extreme (his life in general had improved by several factors of magnitude since the arrival of his god-like dimensional counterpart), though he did have a bit of a headache. For Albus "White Tuna" Dumbledore, he mainly had a headache. The headaches were, of course, caused by the excessive amount of booze he and Larry had conjured and consumed over the previous evening.

"Ugh" groaned a hungover Larry. "I am never drinking like that again!"

"Larry!" gasped Albus. "That is quitter talk. You are young, and you have only conjured rum drinks. You haven't even started in on the mixed drinks. If you're hungover, just have a lemon drop."

Larry hovered his conjured hammock over to the desk and grabbed a lemon drop. After popping it into his mouth, he immediately felt the headache and lingering drunkenness disappear.

"Wow! That's amazing… why do you have your lemon drops coated with potions to cure hangovers and drunkenness?"

Albus chuckled. "Potions? Severus wishes he could create a potion that effective. No, each lemon drop is a product of one of my earliest alchemy creations. You are talking to the proud creator of the only known Confectioner's Stone!"

Larry stared as a content Albus hovered his own hammock over to the desk and grabbed a lemon drop of his own.

"You know, White Tuna, the more I learn about magic, the weirder it seems."

Albus shrugged. "Well, you're not wrong."

As Larry stood up and stretched his muscles, a look of confusion spread across his face. "Wait! You never answered the question. Why do you keep the lemon drops out? Why do you keep something handy to cure hangovers and drunkenness?"

Albus sat up and popped his back. "Well, they are pretty tasty. But, primarily… would you stay sober if you had to work with Severus for over a decade?"

Larry chuckled. "I suppose not. So, why keep him around?"

Albus cracked his neck as he stood. "Hmmm? Oh, right, I never told you. He was all part of my plan to have you defeat Voldemort. It was a whole… thing."

"You had a plan?"

"Sure. It's now defunct, what with the new Harry promising to solve the problem. But it was quite the plan. Want to hear it?"

"Sure"

"Well, it all started with the night your parents died…"

Albus detailed the full plan as the two prepared for the day and made their way to breakfast, a privacy spell setup to keep the conversation private.

"… and then, after speaking to my spirit in the midway point of life and death, you would return to life and defeat Voldemort. Afterwards, despite having gained the control of the Elder Wand by disarming Draco, you would heed the morality lessons I had manipulated others into teaching you and return the wand to my grave. Easy Peasy!"

"Wow. And all of that was reliant on you getting me to choose Treacle Tart as my favorite dessert?"

"Of course! It's why I called up Molly to distract her when she was making Ronald his sandwiches and got her to make his least favorite sandwich, so that you would want to share and buy too much candy from the trolley and hence would be in the mood for a more substantive dessert."

"But what if I had chosen Lemon Meringue?"

Albus paled. "That would have been the darkest possible result. Don't even joke about that!"

Larry looked at Albus strangely. "… OK. But, isn't that whole plan a bit… massively overly complex?"

Albus beamed. "Exactly!"

"Wouldn't there be easier ways to defeat Voldemort? Something a bit more straightforward? Something that did not have thousands of single points of failure?"

"Sure, if you wanted to fail."

"What?"

Albus smiled indulgently. "Larry, I don't know why, but I discovered a long time ago that simple plans only work when trying to achieve something trivial. The more valuable success becomes, the more convoluted the plan must become. I like to think that it is because magic punishes people for being boring."

Larry couldn't hide the disbelief in his voice. "That can't be true."

"Oh? In your first year, Voldemort used a simple plan to gain immortality. He brought in a troll to distract the school while he went after his goal. So, despite all reasonable expectations, he failed to get the Stone and the troll was defeated by Ronald Weasley casting a spell he had never cast successfully before, while you kept the troll distracted by improbably shoving your wand up its nose."

"Yeah, well that was just luck…"

"When Voldemort tried to curse you off your broom, to achieve the goal of killing his enemy of prophecy, he failed. He failed because Hermione Granger went to stop the wrong culprit and accidentally knocked over the correct culprit."

"Sure, but…"

"When his soul fragment wanted to meet you in second year, it went through a completely ridiculous plan that involved you having to figure out the location of the Chamber of Secrets, guessing the password, and arriving alone. There was absolutely no reason it should have worked, and yet he succeeded in having his confrontation. But, when he went straightforward again, and ordered the basilisk to kill you… you killed the damned thing with a sword, survived its venom, and destroyed the soul fragment."

"Huh… Magic is weird"

Albus nodded sagely. "Word"

* * *

As Larry was learning the secrets of Magic, Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. Sitting at her table was the normal huge stack of toast. She had yet to successfully create the Time Toast, but she took comfort in the fact that the only one to succeed was Goyle. She was prepared to simply give up for now on the endeavor. She could accept that Goyle was simply a natural at one thing. He was an Idiot Savant. That was fine. Mostly. Barely. She glared at the stack of toast and pushed it aside.

"She's a brick house" she heard Crabbe say. She glanced over as he continued. "The lady's stacked and that's a fact".

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw his quill glow when touched by his wand. With a bite, he disappeared and then walked in through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had a pleased smile.

NO! She could accept Goyle was an Idiot Savant, but there was no way that Crabbe was also an Idiot Savant! She would not be defeated by the intellectual gnats of Slytherin! She dove for her pile of toast and pulled out her sack of quills.

The sentient bit of magic controlling Time Toast (and dedicated to irritating Hermione) giggled in delight. It was a giggle only audible to other sentient magic, toast, and ducks currently eating breadcrumbs. Of the set, only the toast found the giggling to be disturbing.

* * *

Ludo Bagman was unhappy on the morning of the first task. He should have been extremely happy. He had pushed for the reinstatement of the Triwizard Tournament, so this was his baby. He was a judge for the tournament, and he had been excited to have such a big role in the competition. Unfortunately, he had a bit of a problem when it came to gambling. Primarily, he wasn't good at it.

He had massive debts to witches and wizard around the world. More pressing, he had massive debts to several important goblins at Gringotts. He had made some very sizable new bets, that would wipe his debts clean, but they had relied on Harry Potter winning the Triwizard Tournament. And Harry Potter had not been seen for almost a week. He was doomed.

He was also hungover. Why was he hungover? Oh, right, he had gone out drinking the night before and met up with some goblins again. They had been friendly (which should have made him suspicious). They had bought him drinks (which should have terrified him). They had… gotten him to make another bet… a real long shot bet… the kind of bet that would pay off his debts and give him a tidy profit.

His eyes opened wide with fear as he remembered his side of the stakes. If he lost… oh Merlin… if he lost, he would become a lifetime servant to the management of Gringotts. And both parties had made an Unbreakable Vow to honor the bet.

He looked to his side table and saw the betting slip. He couldn't remember who he had bet on. With trembling fingers, he picked up the slip and read it.

Ludo Bagman began to cry. This would continue until he was summoned for the start of the first task.

* * *

Three of the four champions for the Triwizard Tournament entered the tent where they would be waiting for their turn. All three were nervous, though one was more nervous than the rest.

There was Viktor Krum, the round shouldered, duck footed, Professional Quidditch player, and champion of the Durmstrang school. Some people might wonder how it was possible that a professional athlete could also be a full-time student for nine months of the year. Some might think that a sport that requires active training and play throughout the school year would make it impossible for that player to spend the entire year participating in a non-Quidditch contest in a different country. Well, thanks to a highly convoluted plan, it works out perfectly. As an aside, Viktor knew that the contest involved getting past a dragon in some manner and was not the most nervous champion.

Next was Fleur Delacour, the quarter Veela, beautiful, bouillabaisse lover, and champion of the Beauxbatons school. Some people might wonder what her preferences were when it came to bouillabaisse. Did she prefer the English Conger to the Monkfish? Which fish did she prefer, and did she care about the order in which they were added? Did she have a specific temperature preference? Did she prefer it because of its taste, its origins in Marseilles, or the similar dish from Roman mythology that Venus fed to Vulcan? Some people are just excessively passionate about soup. There was also the thing about the whole sexual allure of her Veela heritage that attracted some interest, but it's no bouillabaisse. Anyways, she was also aware of the dragons and was not the most nervous contestant.

Finally, was Cedric Diggory, the friendly, loyal, handsome, Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, and one of two champions of the Hogwarts school. Some people might say that is a rather generic description that could apply to any stereotypical Hufflepuff. To those people, it should be noted that the stereotypical Hufflepuff is not a Triwizard Champion nor in a budding romantic relationship with a younger rival Quidditch player. As such, it should be crystal clear that Cedric was not simply a generic handsome young man who primarily existed as a mild foil to much more interesting people. As an important note, he was unaware of the dragons and was the most nervous champion (since in most realities it is up to Harry Potter to remember Cedric is also a champion and hence should also receive the warning).

Ten minutes later, a harried and nervous Ludo Bagman walked into the tent. He looked at the three champions and his eyes widened in panic.

"Has anyone seen our fourth champion? Where is Harry Potter?"

"Over here!"

The three champions and Ludo turned to the corner of the tent and were surprised to see Harry reclined on a very comfortable black leather chair, which appeared to be vibrating pleasantly. They were all certain the chair had not existed until that moment. Ludo spoke with relief.

"Ah, Harry, good! You had us all worried. Where having you been for the past week?"

"I've been here since leaving the Headmaster's office." Harry assumed that the time travel implications were obvious. They were not.

Luckily, Ludo simply chose to ignore both the odd answer and the responses of the other champions (Fleur with her calling Harry a "leetle boy", Krum with his surly looks, and Cedric looking handsome and loyal). Instead he pulled out a bag filled with miniature replicas of the dragons that the champions would have to face in their upcoming tasks.

"Wonderful! Now, it's time to get the contest started. First you will each need to reach into the bag…"

Ludo was interrupted by a hacking cough followed by a voice that sounded like a crochety old man who had been smoking five packs a day for the past century (it should be noted that these are packs of cigarettes and not packs of ham or playing cards, as those cause distinctly different vocal changes).

"Not so fast there, buddy boy!"

They all turned to the source of the voice. Sitting on a previously non-present pedestal was the Goblet of Fire. It was relit, and the flames sprung high from the lip of the Goblet and the Fire formed the face of an attractive woman (fire-based women are known for their hotness).

"What!?" spoke everyone except Harry. Harry simply unreclined his massage chair and sat up with interest.

The Goblet of Fire lady spoke with her scratchy crotchety old man voice, directing her attention to Ludo. "What do you think you're doing there, Ace?"

"Ummmm… just explaining the rules of the first task to the champions?"

"And what makes you think you have that authority?"

"… my department is running the Triwizard Tournament?"

The Goblet chuckled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ludo frowned. He was mostly certain he didn't like where the conversation was going. "This is… the Triwizard Tournament"

The Goblet's chuckle became more malicious. "Your people should really read the fine print. Your department does run the Triwizard Tournament. But when you accepted a fourth champion, you made this into the Quadwizard Tournament. I run the Quadwizard Tournament!"

Everyone's "What!?" drowned out Harry's chuckle.

* * *

Sentience is a funny thing.

Humans, Goblins, Centaurs, The Artificial Hivemind of the Large Magellanic Cloud galaxy, and so many other intelligent beings have pondered the nature of sentience. They have questioned the nature of the self, debated the definition of life, wondered if the quasar at the center of their Hivemind was the seat of their soul, and generally delved into the deepest mysteries of existence.

The one thing that was never denied was that the issue of sentience was a serious matter and should not be taken lightly.

Of course, the outlier to all intelligent life was magical humanity. When confronted with the serious questions on the nature of sentience, witches and wizards respond with the question of "uh huh, do you think I can give the sentience level of a rabid dog to a book about monsters?"

For any inanimate object, there is a witch or a wizard who has wanted to make it sentient. Paintings, pictures, trading cards, chess pieces, statues, stairs, empty rooms, teapots, goblets, hats, books, etc. Werewolves came about because a wolf loving witch botched her attempt to make the moon sentient (it's only mildly sentient at this point).

Some might wonder if this blasé attitude towards sentience might explain why some pure bloods view muggles and the muggle born as a lesser species. After all, both a portrait and a muggle can provide the same level of conversation and emotion. In some realities, perhaps that is a valid explanation. Sadly, in this reality it is because people are jerks.

What this blasé attitude does explain is the rapid acceptance of the Goblet's (call me "Gob Fieri") authority. Many of the Triwizard officials started their school careers by being assigned to a house by a sentient hat, and the champions had already been chosen by Gob Fieri (call me "Gob"). Add on to that the inherit laziness of sentient beings, it was not surprise when most of the officials took it on faith that the rules backed up Gob. Finally, there was the part where it cast a truth compulsion on Barty Crouch, who then confessed all of his crimes to a stunned audience (he had been casting the Imperius curse on his son who he had broken out of prison, AND still owned an illegal flying carpet).

The audience, not caring about the administrative aspects of the blood sport they came to see, easily accepted the change of the Triwizard Tournament into Gob Fieri's Quadwizard Tournament.

* * *

Hovering thirty feet over the barren rocky arena of the first task, was the beautiful fire lady known as Gob Fieri. Speaking in her scratchy crotchety old man voice, she projected her voice to everyone in the audience.

"Hello, and welcome to the first of three tasks for Gob Fieri's Quadwizard Tournament, I'm your host and judge, Gob Fieri. As some of you might know, this task will pit our champions against four nesting dragons. In the Triwizard Tournament, each champion would be assigned a dragon and would have to steal a golden egg from their foe, which would have held a clue for the next task. Since their planned next task would have been boring for all of you, the whole egg thing is pointless. Still, it would be a shame to not use four dragons. So, this will be a free for all battle. A contest of wills, strength, and flexibility. First, bring in the champions."

The four champions walked in nervously, well three of them walked in nervously. One of the four champions was simply excited. It should be noted that this mysterious fourth non-nervous champion had no idea what was about to happen, as Gob had been given sentience and power but no directions. The identity of this champion, who is obviously the dimension-hopping Harry Potter, will of course remain a mystery.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory, and Harry Potter!"

The crowd cheered and jeered.

"And for the dragons, I present…"

In walked a bluish green dragon, snorting smoke out of her rather compact nose.

"Hillevi the Swedish Short-Snout!"

The audience was silent. Hillevi glared at the audience and shot a gout of flame at a random section. The flames impacted a shield only inches from their face.

"I should mention that the shield protecting the audience is powered by the enthusiasm of said audience, and the shield is now down. Dragons are known for being insistent upon receiving their due applause, so I would recommend applauding if you value your lives."

The applause and cheers were deafening. Hillevi looked smug.

"Next up…"

In walked a beautiful dragon with green scales that sparkled like emeralds in the sun.

"Branwen the Welsh Green!"

Applause, cheers, and two smug dragons filled the stadium.

"Next…"

In walked a lithe red dragon, each movement a study in grace.

"Ting the Chinese Fireball!"

Applause, cheers, two smug dragons, and one dragon with a sly smile filled the stadium.

"Finally…"

In walked a terrifying, angry, spiky dragon.

"Lujza the Hungarian Horntail!"

Terrified applause and cheers, two smug dragons, one dragon with a sly smile, and one other dragon looking at the audience with undisguised hunger filled the stadium.

"And now for the contest… the four champions and four dragons will… play Twister!"

Confusion filled the audience as the rocky ground transformed into a gigantic flat white surface with four long rows of immense dots. One column had red dots, followed by blue dots, next was yellow dots, and concluded with green dots. A massive spinner hovered above the field.

"To make things even, the champions will be increased in size to match the dragons." With shouts of surprise and giggles of delight, the four champions each now stood at the same size as the largest dragon (Lujza the Hungarian Horntail).

"And the dragons will take human form and be gifted with ability to speak English, French, and Bulgarian."

The dragons transformed into four extremely tall human women, all appropriately clad.

"Take positions!"

All eight contestants took their places and the spinner was flicked by Gob with a fiery hand.

"Left foot yellow!"

The first task had begun!

* * *

"Right hand red… and everyone succeeds… wait! Lujza used a bit too much force in that movement, she's starting to teeter. Is there anyone under her? NO! You can do it, Lujza! She's going to make it! She's going to… OH NO! She moved her right foot off green to stabilize herself. Lujza the Hungarian Horntail is the first out at thirteen moves! Let's hear it for Lujza!"

* * *

"Left foot blue… and Viktor Krum slips. Looks like his duck-footed stance isn't doing him any favors. He's still on his colors, but he's resting all his weight on Hillevi's left arm. Hang in there Hillevi!"

"Oh, and left hand green… and yes Hillevi moves her arm and Krum falls down! Way to go Hillevi! Krum is out at eighteen moves! Let's hear it for Viktor Krum of Durmstrang!"

* * *

"Right foot yellow… and it looks like everyone is good… no! Harry Potter's left hand is starting to slip! Hang on Potter! And it looks like Hillevi is amused by being underneath another person about to slip and is starting to chuckle. Here's hoping she knows that her human form still allows for super-heated breath… and the hot air blasts down the back of Potter's neck. He's starting to squirm… he's starting to giggle… he's starting to laugh… and his left hand slips off completely. He's going to land on Hillevi, will she be able to support him? NO! Potter and Hillevi are out at twenty-seven moves! Let's hear it for Harry Potter of Hogwarts and Hillevi the Swedish-Short Snout!"

* * *

"Right foot blue… and everyone is still going strong. We're forty moves in and no one is showing signs of tiring. These competitors are going to have to start thinking outside of the box if they want to win the contest."

"Left hand green… and no problems. Wait, that's interesting. Branwen took a more dangerous dot, but now her mouth is right next to Cedric Diggory's ear. Uh-oh, it looks like she's going for a psychological attack. Be careful Diggory! As everyone should know, the Welsh Green is the most effective flirt of all the dragon breeds. Their flirt attacks have been known to subdue a charging Horntail. And it looks like Diggory is starting to blush. Here's hoping he can keep it together."

"Left foot red… and Branwen has moved her leg to brush up against Cedric's leg. Oh dear, she's increased the intensity of her attack. Cedric is really sweating now! Careful Cedric, it's just flirting, don't let it bother… and he has stood up to run away from Branwen. Well done on the flirt attack, Branwen! Diggory is out at forty-one moves. Let's hear it for Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts! Enjoy your cold shower!"

* * *

"Right hand red… no problems. Forty-four moves in, and we got to wonder what Fleur Delacour is up to. Our remaining three contestants could easily have their own section to play on, and yet she is making her way over to Branwen, leaving Ting by herself. What could she be up to?"

"Left hand blue… all good. Fleur Delacour has managed to position herself so her mouth is next to Branwen. Oh my! Does she intend to out-flirt a Welsh Green? She does! For all those in the audience be thankful that you are shielded from the Veela Allure that Delacour is exuding. The allure of a giant Veela is something else. But, does it have any effect on Branwen? Only time will tell."

* * *

"Right foot green… no problems. Sixty moves in, and Ting's natural grace and flexibility ensures she is going strong. It helps that Delacour and Branwen are on the opposite end of the board and twisted all around each other. As anyone can see, both are covered in sweat and have dilated pupils. The Veela Allure is still rolling off the tangled pair in massive waves. Branwen whispers something into Delacour's ear, and Delacour is trembling as she whispers back. Branwen shivers and the two are now staring into each other's eyes. The last time the world saw a flirt-off this intense, the Trojan War was triggered. How much longer can this go?"

"Left foot y… wait! Delacour and Branwen broke at the same time and are now kissing quite passionately on the ground. Sorry ladies, it's not that type of show. They're both going for a cold dip on opposite sides of the lake. Delacour and Branwen are out at sixty moves. Let's hear it for Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons and Branwen the Welsh Green."

The two embracing giant women disappeared, followed by a loud splash in the distance. A cloud of steam could be seen rising from the lake. It took nearly ten minutes for Fleur to reel back her Allure. The range of the Allure hit both the village center of the Merpeople and the camp of the centaurs. The population boom that followed some months afterwards was likely a coincidence.

"Left foot yellow! And Ting easily completes the move! At sixty-one moves, Ting the Chinese Fireball wins the first task of the Quadwizard Tournament! Congratulations Ting! Let's hear it for Ting!"

The audience cheered in excitement and confusion.

"Now, let's shrink our champions back to normal size. And return our dragons to their normal shape. As a special gift for our visiting dragons, they will be able to still speak English, French, and Bulgarian. Also, they will be able to transform to normal sized humans at will. Let's hear it for all of our contestants!"

The thunderous applause marked the end of the first task.

* * *

That evening, Ludo Bagman was still in shock. There had been quite a few shocks since the start of the morning. Gob Fieri taking control of the tournament was a shock. The introduction of Giant Twister was a shock (and would also become the preferred combat resolution technique of the world's population of giants, leading to a sharp decline in the overall aggressive of the group and increase in their acceptance to the rest of the world). Harry Potter not making the top four was a horrible shock. But the greatest shock was represented in his hands.

He stared at the betting slip. And silently read the bet out loud.

"Winner of First Task: Chinese Fireball"

The goblins of Gringotts had already contacted him. His debts to all parties had been paid, with interest. The remaining winnings were deposited in his vaults. In the first time in a decade, he was well off.

* * *

A week later, a harried Hermione Granger and confused Ron Weasley left the Headmaster's office. Ron was mainly confused by what Dumbledore would achieve by putting the lime in the coconut, and what it had to do with the twenty-second use of dragon's blood. Hermione was simply muttering at another piece of toast, her mind clearly nearing the breaking point.

"Baby shoot me with your love gun"

She tapped the quill and her eyes widened in excitement as it glowed. Tremulously, she took a nibble and disappeared.

A shout of triumph was heard from another part of the castle.

A sentient piece of magic smiled happily. After all, one could not irritate someone who was full on crazy.

* * *

In a disused woman's restroom on the second floor, the ghost of Myrtle Warren (aka Moaning Myrtle) primped herself in the mirror. Next to her, floated the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw (aka The Grey Lady) who was nervously rubbing her hands together. She was the first to see two young men pop into existence. Helena smiled demurely. Myrtle laughed in joy.

"Greggy Goo!"

The two embraced with a loving kiss.

Helena looked at the other young man.

"Hello Vincent"

Vincent Crabbe bowed to the daughter of one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

"My Lady. Might I entice you to join me on a midnight stroll?"

Helena smiled with a happiness she had not known in a long time.

"Indeed… perhaps tonight we might explore the library…"

As she started towards the door, she continued speaking. "After all, I don't want people saying my boyfriend isn't smart."

"Boyfriend?"

A happy Vincent Crabbe chased after the swaying spectral hips of his beautiful Grey Lady.

* * *

In the dungeons of Hogwarts, a jittery Severus Snape snuck into a disused classroom. He hadn't managed to complete a potion in weeks. Oh, his classes remained free of disruption, but his free time potions had all been ruined by that damnable Peeves! He didn't know where that poltergeist got a hold of a wand that could cast magic, but the spirit had become impossible to deal with. And Dumbledore seemed more interested in teaching alchemy and pranks and Larry Potter (though he never questioned Larry Potter's presence at head table as being remarkable).

Tonight though, tonight he would finally complete a potion. It was a simple boil cure potion, but it was the principle that mattered!

He had setup twenty other potions throughout the dungeons. He was certain that the dummy potions would distract Peeves sufficiently.

Looking around the room, he saw it was empty. He sighed in relief. He made his way to the cauldron and picked up the last ingredient to finish the potion. He looked down into the potion.

"BOO!"

Severus screamed in shock at the sight of the head of Headless Nick, knocking a full pile of porcupine quills into the brew. He barely managed to avoid the subsequent explosion, but Nick's laughter would haunt him until his dying day.

As it turns out, granting a ghost his five century long deepest desire is all it takes to ensure that a poltergeist has a permanent partner in pranking crime.

* * *

Dobby returned from his nightly trip to Bad Master Malfoy's changing room, holding another three hairs. Just a few more months, and vengeance would be his.

He tittered like a tipsy professional wrestler, evilly.

* * *

In the Las Vegas desert, on the final night of the full moon, a terrified werewolf and large black dog ran for their life. Behind them, a young Auror with bright red hair skipped after the two. The werewolf and dog had been on the run for three days now. No matter how fast they ran, the skipping Auror (with massive bullwhip and handcuffs dangling from her belt) was always a few dozen feet away. With their energy reserves nearly depleted, they knew it would take a miracle to escape the terrifying woman. A miracle that would never come.

As the werewolf known as Remus Lupin finally collapsed in exhaustion, he cringed as he once again heard the Auror talk in her sing-song voice.

"Come on little werewolf. Come to the nice metamorphmagus!"

He whimpered as he felt her arms grab him and squeeze him with impossible strength. It should be impossible for anyone to carry a transformed werewolf in their arms, as if it weighed nothing.

"Oooh! Now I have a cute little werewolfy wolfy to pet and love and cherish and dominate and squeeze! I'll take you home and lock you in a nice big cage, and never never ever let you out except to pet you, and love you, and hug you, and sex you all up! Won't that be fun?"

The werewolf fainted.

Auror Tonks looked over at the large black dog and pointed her wand at him. Her voice went from a sing-song tone to ice-cold.

"The law says that any stray dogs I bring back with me have to be neutered. So, either change now, Sirius, or say goodbye to the boys."

The dog quickly changed back into the man known as Sirius Black, who then promptly fainted.

A pleased Auror rounded up her cousin and divine lupine, while preparing her return portkey.

* * *

Harry Potter, having been missing for a couple weeks, appeared in the Headmaster's office.

"White Tuna! I've got terrible news!"

Albus Dumbledore looked up from the bubbling cauldron of Liquid Luck he just taught Larry to brew (it was one of the most difficult potions known to the wizarding world, so the lessons had taken nearly a full day after excluding meals, naps, and goofing off). He noted that Harry seemed terrified. What could scare a man of such power? He was grateful to see Larry rushing to grab the lemon drops. He suspected he would need to be sober with all his faculties at the ready.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry's face was pale. "I just remembered the Yule Ball is coming soon."

Albus's gut clenched. Was some great evil going to attack during the Yule Ball?

"What about the Yule Ball?"

"I…"

As Harry paused, the air stilled, and lightning shot down from a cloudless sky.

"Need a date!"

Albus rolled his eyes. "Never mind the lemon drops, Larry. I don't want to be sober for this."


	16. Chapter 16 - Goblet of Hell No (pt 4)

AUTHOR NOTE – This is the continuation of the previous chapter

AUTHOR NOTE 2 - Chapter has been updated. Content is unchanged. To clear up possible confusion, an author note is added to the bottom to list the crossovers occurring in this chapter.

* * *

"I…"

As Harry paused, the air stilled, and lightning shot down from a cloudless sky. In the distance an unrelated cow mooed.

"Need a date!"

Albus "White Tuna" Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry, you just said that. There was no need to repeat yourself."

"… I thought you might have forgotten."

Albus sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then took a swig from a coconut full of rum.

"OK… you need a date… and you've come to me? Oh God! Please tell me you aren't asking me to be your date!"

Albus's eyes filled with panic and he looked down at the cauldron of Liquid Luck bubbling in front of him. He wondered if it would be powerful enough to work against someone like Harry. He was pleased to see that Larry was also edging towards the potion. It was nice to know that his local Potter was developing a sense of self preservation.

"I'm not asking you on a date. The thing is, I don't really have much experience with asking women out on dates."

Albus and Larry stared at Harry with disbelief. Larry was the first to speak.

"You have infinite power, and can't get a date?"

"… yes"

"Why don't you ask out someone in the castle?"

Harry looked back at Larry with incredulity. "Would YOU ask anyone in the castle?"

Larry shrugged. "Good point"

Albus sighed so hard that he passed out for two minutes from lack of inhaling. When he came to, he ignored his fainting and started to speak.

"If you are looking to ask a stranger, then I've heard that a surefire method is to find a damsel in distress and…"

"Damsel in distress! Got it!"

With that, Harry Potter disappeared from the room (also from that reality, but Albus did not know that fact nor would have he really cared).

"… and he's gone. Oh well, I'm sure it will be obvious to him that he needs to save the damsel first. So, Larry, how would you like to learn how to build a faster than light starship that runs on a modified levitation charm?"

* * *

Winfred "Fred" Burkle was terrified.

Not too long ago, she was a happy young woman who had just started up a relationship with a man who was in the running for being her one true love. She was running the science division of the Los Angeles office for Wolfram & Hart (admittedly a demonic law firm, but she and her friends were taking it down from the inside). And now she was dying in the arms of the man she loved, the victim of one of her subordinates in the science division.

Although the word "dying" seemed too tame for what was happening. Her soul was being consumed by an elder demon known as the God-King Illyria. She could feel her very essence shredding. She tried to fight, like her true love Wesley asked her, but she just couldn't find a way to fight any longer.

As the last of her energy ebbed, she spoke her final words to Wesley.

"I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I'm not scared. Please, Wesley, why can't I stay?"

As her head rested limp on Wesley's arm, she stared into his loving eyes, and the world began to dim.

"Excuse me?"

Fred blinked. Considering that she had lost all control of her body, that shouldn't have been possible. Was she dead? Shouldn't her soul be destroyed at this point? She raised her head up and saw that Wesley was completely frozen in place. Turning her head to the voice, she saw a dark-haired man (who looked either 14 or 35). He gave her a big smile and spoke again.

"Hi there! I'm looking for a damsel in distress. Would that be you?"

Fred stood up, feeling better than she had ever felt. Luckily, she had enough experience with the supernatural that she wasn't completely freaked out by what was happening.

"Well, I do tend to find myself in a lot of situations where I need rescue, and this certainly counts. Also, I am a damsel, so… yes?"

The strange man with a British accent smiled with immense enthusiasm.

"Great! Would you like to be my date for a dance?"

Fred looked at the smiling man with a great deal of surprise. Looking at his wide-eyed and innocent expression, she almost felt bad for her response.

"I'm a bit busy, what with the distress and all. Even if I was free of distress, I am seeing someone." She nodded her head towards the frozen Wesley.

The man appeared to notice Wesley for the first time, with a look of shock. "Oh! I see. Well, good for you. I'll just head on out then."

The man waved, as if to leave. Fred waved back. The man then smacked his head.

"Silly me! I completely forgot. It looks like there is some sort of entity currently chewing on your soul and dissolving it. Is that a normal thing for you?"

Fred couldn't help it, she screamed in rage and frustration. "NO! OF COURSE NOT! In what world would that be normal!?"

The man shrugged. "I try not judge people's hobbies. Well, I'll fix you up and send the entity back to its home… huh, it looks like someone left the door unlocked to its house. I'll just lock that up while I'm at it. Good luck with your relationship!"

Fred watched as the man flicked a speck of golden energy at her forehead and he disappeared to the sound of what she swore was the theme to The Love Boat.

Time then restarted for Wesley, who looked up in shock to see Fred standing and glowing with a golden light. Hope welled up in his heart as he saw her expel a dark smoke out of her mouth as her body healed. Once completed, they spent the night confirming it was truly her and celebrating with great enthusiasm.

It wouldn't take long before they discovered that while Fred's soul was intact, she now possessed all the physical strength and speed of an elder demon. This came in handy as they regularly found themselves heading out to save the innocent from the forces of evil. If it also came in handy for more personal reasons, a blushing Fred and Wesley would never confirm.

It would be a while longer before they realized that what the strange man "locked up" was the connection between the demonic dimensions and Earth. Demons could no longer come or go. Vampires could no longer sire new Vampires (with both Fred and an army of Vampire Slayers, the Vampire population quickly dwindled).

The lawyers of Wolfram & Hart were soon reminded of the basic truth about "ironclad contracts", mainly that they are only "ironclad" if there is someone around to enforce them. Without the intervention of their demonic masters, they discovered that they weren't all that good at the practice of law. Although, since most of them were only alive because of demonic contracts that animated their corpses and sealed their souls in place, the lesson only was learned by the small percentage of the staff that survived.

One thing they would never know, but would be pleased to hear, was that Illyria was happily wreaking havoc across the demonic planes, and specifically kicking the asses of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart.

The strange man was never seen again, but his legend lingered.

* * *

One of the most important aspects of dating is timing. Of course, that is hardly distinct to just dating. Timing tends to impact so many things in the world. For instance, in the room that Harry found himself in, there were at least three different examples of poor timing. Each example also had a different impact on this reality.

The smallest impact was a loose connector behind a wall panel. The only thing notable is that the connector had been loose for over a billion years, giving it the distinction of being the cause of one the oldest trouble tickets in history.

As background, the loose connector happened to exist on an ancient space station known as The Citadel. The Citadel itself housed an Artificial Intelligence known as The Catalyst. The Catalyst was the architect of a cycle of galactic genocide perpetrated against advanced organic life, performed roughly every fifty thousand years, carried out by a fleet of overpowered Spaceship AIs known as Reapers that were commanded by The Catalyst. The cycle itself being the solution implemented in response to the trouble ticket labeled "Need to stop AIs from killing all organic life". As an interesting timing issue, the Reapers were currently implementing another act of galactic genocide, but they were not in Harry's room and so are more of an aside.

As luck would have it, the loose connection was never fixed due to a poorly handled timing issue in the bug reporting system of The Citadel. Right after The Citadel's sensors detected the loose connection, a bug was sent to central processing. Unfortunately, this occurred at the same microsecond that The Catalyst took control of the central processing center of The Citadel (in preparation of starting its first round of genocide). Due to the timing issue, a glitch occurred, and the bug was assigned the same ID as the "Need to stop AIs from killing all organic life" trouble ticket. As such, the two trouble tickets became linked together, and The Citadel's records showed the loose connection problem as being assigned to The Catalyst. The Catalyst never noticed the glitch, and over a billion years later the problem remained unresolved. Of course, due to massive system redundancies, the loose connection caused absolutely no impact to the station.

The second example of poor timing rated as a mild impact (unless you're mainly concerned about getting a date for a Yule Ball in a completely different reality). This was of course the case of Harry asking Commander Jennifer Shepard on a date while she was watching her boyfriend about to be run through with a sword. Even with time stopped, she was not overly interested in going on a date with some strange man. Harry lamented his poor timing, where he kept finding women who were not single (especially when one considers that he could also travel through time), though he was happy to be learning quite a selection of vulgar language from his failed attempts.

The third example of poor timing had the greatest impact (assuming you were a sane person). The boyfriend, Thane Krios (a green bipedal lizard-like alien known as a Drell, looking much like an insurance selling gecko with an extreme case of dry skin) was not supposed to be the sort of man to be run through with a sword. That's not to say that "sort of man to be run through with a sword" was a generally accepted type in this reality (those realities tended to also involve people insisting there can be only one). For clarity, Thane Krios had been the top assassin in the galaxy as recently as six months ago. His attacker, Kai Leng, was the current top assassin for the terrorist organization known as Cerberus.

In his prime, Thane Krios was able to kill any target he was assigned. It never mattered how protected or well-trained the target was, Thane would reach them. He was a master of martial arts, bladed weapons, small arms, heavy arms, and sniper rifles. Before he quit his role as an assassin, he had a record consisting of successes in the triple digits and only one failure. In every mission, he had never had a single victim of collateral damage. If one thinks of a normal assassin as being a surgeon with a scalpel, Thane Krios was a neurosurgeon with a high precision nanometer laser scalpel.

Kai Leng was a man currently in his prime. Provided that he had a massive army of disposable troops and gunships to weaken and distract the enemy, he could kill any unprotected target with a sixty percent success rate. He could kill any target with military training with a success percentage almost hitting double digits. If he had a well-trained soldier at his mercy, he would always fail in taking out the target, but he would successfully be able to send a strongly worded taunting email. The point is that Cerberus has almost always been a quantity over quality organization. If one thinks of a normal assassin as being a surgeon with a scalpel, Kai Leng was a man screaming "I is doctoring!" while flailing wildly about with a chainsaw.

The timing issue was that Thane was dying of a disease called Kepral's Syndrome (an incurable terminal disease afflicting some members of the Drell race). During the fight between Kai Leng and Thane Krios, Thane had only two days left before he would succumb to the disease that weakened him tremendously. As such, he had only a one in ten chance of defeating Kai Leng. One week previous, it would have been even odds. One month previous, his odds of winning would be nine in ten. Two months previous, and Thane would have been able to calmly point out all of Kai's faults while easily dispatching the Cerberus "assassin".

As it was, Kai's sword was frozen one inch from Thane's chest. In his prime, Thane would have easily been able to dodge an attack like that (things only becoming dicey around one-sixteenth of an inch). Sadly, his body would just not respond as his training would normally allow.

Of course, from Harry's perspective, none of this mattered. He had failed to get his date. So, he saved the damsel in emotional distress, kicked the wall, and popped off to the next reality.

In this case, "saving the damsel in distress" involved healing Thane and returning him to his prime and permanently curing Kepral's Syndrome for every Drell for the rest of time. With Thane back in his prime, Kai Leng got to discover the difference between being the top assassin in the galaxy and being a guy who likes to look badass with a sword. Sadly (for poetic justice purposes only, assuming the poet has an incredible bloodlust), the lesson lasted only the three seconds needed for Thane to disarm Kai and then use Kai's sword to separate Kai's head from Kai's body. Thane suppressed the odd urge to hum a song from the old Earth band, Queen.

As an interesting note, when Harry kicked the wall, he knocked the loose connector back into its proper position. When the monitoring subroutine detected the problem was resolved, it sent the Complete notification for the Trouble Ticket's ID. The Catalyst, upon being notified that its "Need to stop AIs from killing all organic life" ticket ID was marked as Complete, it sighed in satisfaction and began the shutdown process. This included sending all Reaper forces to be destroyed in a black hole and nullifying the mind-controlling Indoctrination effect of all Reaper technology (interestingly, 99% of all living Cerberus forces were only working for Cerberus due to Indoctrination, so the terrorist organization was effectively destroyed). The Catalyst then released control of the Citadel back to its normal control systems and deleted itself.

No one would know why the Reaper War ended so suddenly, but they were certainly grateful. Commander Jennifer Shepard was mainly grateful to have many more decades with the love of her life.

* * *

Harry sat on the stairs in front of a church, invisible to all, and sighed. Ninety-nine realities, and each one resulted in a rejection. He was starting to suspect that he possibly should have stayed to hear the entirety of White Tuna's advice. Honestly, he couldn't figure out where he was going wrong. He showed up to meet a damsel in distress, froze time, asked her on a date (he assumed they knew that he meant it in the non-romantic sense), wait for her response (which was always no), saved her from her distress, and then immediately left. It was a solid plan… and yet it was just not working out. He couldn't help but mentally go over his failed his attempts.

In Reality 17, he asked Buffy Summers for a date. She was in distress due to her having just begun the final apocalyptic fight against the First Evil. She declined due to her being in a relationship (kind of, sort of, maybe, maybe not, it's complicated) with an ensouled blonde vampire named Spike. Harry then gave her a button labeled "Easy Mode" and then disappeared. He didn't stay to see that button, when pressed out of morbid curiosity, transformed the Hell Mouth into a Heaven Mouth. He was unaware that the First Evil became the First Good, and her army of prehistoric vampires became an army of immortal and forever young hypoallergenic puppies yearning to love lonely people and have their bellies rubbed (the bellies of the puppies and not the bellies of the lonely people, but the puppies were not overly particular in this regard). He was unaware that Spike was transformed into a human with powers of a Vampire Slayer. He was unaware that all demonic forces on the planet became dedicated to charity work and sharing their supernatural healing abilities to help cure all disease. And he certainly was unaware when the witch named Willow Rosenberg cast her spell to activate all the potential Vampire Slayers in the world, she instead received a message stating "We're sorry, that spell has been disabled while in Easy Mode. Please consult the User's Manual for your Reality for further reference."

In Reality 41, he asked Zoe Washburne for a date. She was in distress due to her husband (apparently named "A-Leaf-On-The-Wind") having just been impaled by the giant space harpoon sticking through the space window of their spaceship (SPACE!). She declined due to her surprisingly being in a relationship with her husband. Harry then removed the space harpoon and space healed A-Leaf-On-The-Wind to perfect space health. Before leaving, he imbued the man's collection of toy dinosaurs with a bit of magical oomph. He was unaware that bit of oomph would lead to the toys having the power to generate armies of giant robot dinosaur spaceships, all loyal to the Washburnes. When the couple's friends were attacked by space cannibals, the space cannibals were quite surprised to learn that herbivore dinosaurs are deadly when they happen to be robot spaceships with an infinite supply of weapons. Eventually the Washburnes would overthrow the oppressive galactic government and replace it with an unending utopia ruled by immortal robot dinosaur spaceships (velociraptors are surprisingly effective at the administrative tasks of government).

In Reality 99, he asked Gamora for a date. She was in distress due to having been thrown off a cliff by her adopted father (named Thermos… Tan Ghost… Than Shot First… he was a purple guy with a weird name and a predilection for daughter murder so Harry didn't bother trying to memorize his name), because apparently it would help the man get something called a Soul Food Stone. She declined, due to her being in a relationship with her favorite quill that she had named Peter (such a Hermione thing to do, though Harry was partial to pencils). He popped her safely down to the ground, found and destroyed the Soul Food Stone and then gave her something he called The Infinity Pez Dispenser (she wondered why it looked a human in ancient clothes, and had the name "Nick" stenciled on the side). He left before she could ask any questions. He wasn't there when she realized that the Infinity Pez Dispenser had an unending supply of Pez candy. The Pez candy being notable because it had barely any chalky after taste, would grant her a minute of infinite knowledge and power, and came in a variety of citrus flavors. Harry would never know how Gamora would use the infinite power and knowledge to force her adoptive father to roam the universe's coffee shops and restock their half-and-half. Nor would he be around as she would annually celebrate her boyfriend's birthday by forcing an entire random planet to sing a medley of Earth songs from the 1970s and 1980s. And he certainly would never hear an annoyed Sorcerer Supreme grumble "The bastard couldn't have shown up before I visited 14,000,605 futures!?"

Harry was unaware that in all ninety-nine realities, he had become a figure of myth. The Love Traveler they called him. A god (or god-like being) who roams the universe and occasionally tests the strength of a person's love. If the person passes the test, then they are granted with an incredible (and weird) boon. The residents of those realities ignored the protestations of the asked-out women, who said that the guy was just a super powerful and socially awkward guy. They ignored it mainly because that was not nearly as fun of a history. Half of those realities would eventually form religions based on The Love Traveler. In three realities, the amount of faith poured into the religion would eventually cause minor gods to poof into existence to continue the task of rewarding romantic devotion (with a fourth reality spawning a major god).

All Harry was aware of was that he still didn't have a date for the Yule Ball. Also, he was aware of all the noise coming from in front of the church. Really, it was a bit distracting having an angel (Bartleby, he heard) flying around causing massive death and destruction. It just killed his self-pity vibe (in addition to the people who were being killed). He was mildly distracted by the drunk angel without wings (Loki, though he didn't look like much of a trickster) going to Bartleby and demanding that they stop whatever weird plan they had (something about going to church). Bartleby then killed Loki, and Harry sent the angel's spirit someplace it could be happy and do some good.

Harry's pity party was interrupted a little later when some guy started shooting the wings off Bartleby's back, followed by a massive power surge in the current reality that no one seemed to notice, then Bartleby being pushed out of the church by the all-powerful being of this reality. The being spoke out loud (Harry tuned out, assuming it unimportant), which caused Bartleby's head to explode. Harry sent the angel's spirit to join Loki's spirit. There was then some drama involving pregnancy, existential questions, nose honking, and the general feeling of an adventure wrapping up. The only thing that Harry found mildly interesting was that the angel next to the powerful being seemed familiar.

As it seemed that everything was about to wrap up in this reality, Harry decided to go stag to the Yule Ball. He was preparing to head back to White Tuna's reality when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

* * *

The evening of the Yule Ball came, and most people seemed to be happy.

Fleur Delacour was having a wonderful time with her date, Branwen the Welsh Green dragon, who she had been dating since the end of the first task.

Viktor Krum, remembering that he was a massively famous quidditch star, had brought Gwenog Jones (the captain of the Hollyhead Harpies quidditch team). The two would form an unbreakable friendship that evening.

Cedric Diggory predictably, loyally, and handsomely brought Cho Chang. Cedric did find himself a little disturbed when Cho kept saying things "doesn't this feel like it might be out last dance?" and breaking out in tears for no good reason.

Rita Skeeter sat in the courtyard in her beetle form, waiting patiently for someone to randomly reveal damning information in a wide-open area (as opposed to the holding private conversations in one of the countless empty classrooms within the castle). She was disappointed when people kept becoming quiet when they walked near her. This made no sense to her, although that was likely because she was mentally blocked from realizing that she was no longer physically capable of changing into her beetle form. As such, most people were a bit freaked out by a middle-aged witch perched on top of a statue in the middle of a school courtyard.

Larry Potter was not at the Yule Ball. He had elected to check out Bermuda (where he ended up having a couple of pleasant dates anyway). He was mildly surprised to see Mad Eye Moody catching a tan on a comfortable beach, with all his body parts properly regrown. Apparently Harry had rescued the ex-Auror on the morning of the first task, and the man was happy to retire (Harry had been nice enough to fill Alastor's beach house with randomized and refreshing death traps, so Alastor could get his paranoia out of the way early and relax for the rest of the day). As mentioned, Larry was only slightly surprised as he was used to Harry's behavior by this point.

Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were happily dancing with Moaning Myrtle and The Grey Lady. The two boys, through the tutelage of their girlfriends, were now the top students for their year. They had worked together on the Time Toast and expanded its usage to work for ghosts, where the ghosts went forward an hour, were visible, and corporal. The trick, of course, being that you had to first convince the toast to take a bite of itself.

Hermione Granger was a bit unhinged. She stalked Goyle and Crabbe, hiding behind a potted plant she carried in front of herself. The potted plant, on the other frond, was having a wonderful time and hoped to gather the courage and speaking ability to ask Hermione on a proper date.

Harry and his date were having a wonderful time. They were flinging their selves around the dance floor with wild abandon. Spinning, somersaulting, and generally causing a great deal of confusion. Despite all the wild flailing, they miraculously managed to avoid colliding with anyone. No one knew who the girl was. They found her long dark hair, silver jacket, and white tutu to be odd even by British Magical Fashion standards. They also found it odd that she never talked, though she would occasionally whisper in Harry's ear and people got the oddest sense that the universe was doing a handstand. Severus Snape wondered why the couple would occasionally point at him and giggle, but his survival instincts screamed for him to let it go.

For Harry, the evening had been heavenly.

* * *

Dobby returned from his nightly trip to Bad Master Malfoy's changing room, holding another three hairs. Based on the amount he had, he would be able to achieve his vengeance on February 24th.

He blew kisses at the other House Elves, while chuckling sarcastically.

* * *

In a cage in the basement of the ancestral home of the Black family, Sirius and Remus sat inside of a cage. It was a nice cage, all things considered. It had Daily Prophets lining the floor, a water bottle in the corner, and a large wheel near the wall that they could run in for exercise. From above they heard Nymphadora Tonks (call me Mistress Tonks!) singing an extremely filthy song by the potion master Sir Mix-A-Lot.

Sirius ran happily in the wheel while he talked to Remus. "Gee, Remus, what do you want to do tonight?"

Remus, who had been staring pensively towards the exit of the basement/dungeon, turned to look at Sirius. "The same thing we do every night, Sirius. Try to take our leave from your crazy cousin!"

From an unknown source the room filled with singing.

"They're Grimmy and The Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf! Narf!"

* * *

In a different reality that Harry did not visit in his hundred reality tour of rejection, there was a damsel in distress.

The woman's name was Eleanor Shellstrop. She was dead, though that was not her distress. She was in distress because the love of her afterlife, Chidi Anagonye, was about to have his memories erased of his time in the afterlife. To be fair, the two of them were old hands at having their memories erased, as they were in a version of The Bad Place designed to look like The Good Place where they kept figuring out the truth and then were subsequently made to forget so the demons could try again. This memory erasure was different.

Eleanor and Chidi (along with their compatriots) had proven a definite flaw in the "perfect" scoring system used to determine if humans belonged in The Good Place or The Bad Place. The Judge, the all-knowing being that was the final arbiter of the afterlife, had decided she needed more evidence. As such, she gave Eleanor and company the task of proving that residents of The Bad Place could become better people if they were also fooled into believing they were in The Good Place. This was of course a ruling that ignored the obvious conclusion that the entire system was intrinsically flawed and needed to be reworked.

Eleanor was meant to run the new fake Good Place with the help of Chidi, but The Judge ignored the cheating of the leader of The Bad Place and allowed the new experiment to include Chidi's ex-girlfriend. Being a poor actor, Chidi needed to have all his memories of the afterlife removed (including his love for Eleanor). This was all very convoluted, of course, but such was the nature of this particular afterlife.

Michael, the reformed demon and Eleanor's friend, prepared to snap his fingers to erase Chidi's memories. As his fingers came together, they were grabbed in an unyielding grip. Looking to his side, he saw two beings of a power that dwarfed the power of The Judge, both with wings made of shining light.

"Hey, Mikey…" called Eleanor.

"Yes, Eleanor?" replied Michael.

"Are angels a thing in the afterlife?"

Michael stared into the smirking face of the dark-haired angel. He gulped.

"No"

And with that, Eleanor met two angels who had the skills to accurately judge a soul, the experience to understand mortal life, the practical lesson of how bureaucracy can lead to massive mistakes (including going up to the collapse of reality), and the humility to understand that they were not infallible.

More importantly, they were two angels with the power and will to rebuild the judgment system.

A short eternity later, where every soul was inspected individually by the angels, Eleanor and her friends were in The Good Place. Many other residents of The Bad Place were moved to The Good Place. And the souls were now in their proper place, with a chance of growth being added to The Bad Place and eventually graduating to The Good Place.

Michael was given the position of immediate supervisor of the leaders of The Good Place and The Bad Place. Much to the joy of the always happy leaders of The Good Place, and the terror of the leader of The Bad Place.

The Accounting Department (having enjoyed perfect consensus amongst themselves for the history of that reality) was unknowingly transferred to a Bad Place where they no longer could reach any consensus, they had already spent 3.5 million years choosing between hard tacos or soft tacos for lunch. They would eventually learn that they were ordering from a pizza place.

The Judge (who was obsessed with Reality TV) was now only able to watch CSPAN (specifically repeats of meetings of The Judiciary Committee). The angels wondered if she would ever get the hint and admit to her faults. She did not.

Loki and Bartleby were happy.

* * *

AUTHOR NOTE - To help with confusion issues, here are the crossovers in this chapter:

Primary Reality - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

First Date Rejection Reality - Angel (TV Series)

Second Date Rejection Reality - Mass Effect 3 (Video Game)

Reality 100 (AKA Harry moping reality) - Dogma (movie) (NOTE - Harry's date for the Yule Ball is the character played by Alanis Morissette)

Reality 17 - Buffy The Vampire Slayer (TV Series)

Reality 41 - Firefly / Serenity (specifically the Serenity movie)

Reality 99 - Avengers: Infinity War (movie)

Loki and Bartleby's ending place - The Good Place (TV Series)


	17. Chapter 17 - Goblet of Hell No (pt 5)

AUTHOR NOTE – This is the continuation of the previous chapter

"So THAT'S the purpose of a platypus!" Harry exclaimed as he dropped his Yule Ball date off in her home dimension. Most people, when given the frequently available chance of taking God to another dimension for the purposes of attending a school dance, would normally ask questions about the nature of the universe. Perhaps even a question about whether God happens to be the specific God of only her home dimension, or the God of a reality cluster, or the God of all dimensions. Harry was mainly concerned with discussing the fauna of Australia and playing a few games of Skee-Ball.

God simply smiled indulgently, gently squeezed Harry's nose, and made a honking noise. Harry blushed and returned the gesture.

With that, God went back up to Heaven, leaving Harry to head back to the second task of the Quadwizard Tournament.

If only he could remember how to get back.

"Huh… let's see… aww man!"

Harry sat down to contemplate how to make it back. As an aside, it was honestly a miracle that Harry found his way back the first time for the dance (in this case, it was a literal act of God). Focus was not really Harry's forte.

"OK… what can I remember of the original second task… cold… wet… competing with Cedric…"

As he talked, his magic pinged against the infinite infinity of countless infinities that comprised the numberless dimensions. He got a match on the fourth dimension.

"Got it!"

With the sound of an ethereal voice singing "just a stranger on a bus", Harry disappeared.

* * *

Neville Longbottom stared up in horror at the speck in the air. It was rapidly increasing in size, resolving into the shape of the most famous student at Hogwarts. Behind the famous speck was another speck holding the Golden Snitch in triumph, a rather friendly, loyal, handsome speck that certainly existed for a purpose other than being a friendly foil to the famous speck below.

"What's going on?" spoke the voice of a stranger, talking over the thunderous downpour of rain and the splashing claps of thunder.

"It's Harry!" Neville shouted. "He was going after the snitch, and then Dementors attacked, and it looks like he's going to crash. Ohhhhhhh… I can't watch!"

Neville turned his head and saw the stranger narrow his eyes towards the sky.

"Oops, wrong cold wet Cedric! And, there goes the broom towards the Whomping Willow..."

Neville stared at the stranger in disgust. "You're worried about the broomstick!? Harry is going to die, and you're…"

A booming shout of "Arresto Momentum!" filled the stadium and the falling body of Harry Potter rapidly slowed.

"See, Neville, Larry is fine. What the heck, I'll make sure the Whomping Willow can't destroy his Nimbus. Now, I think I know where to find the right Cedric, thanks Neville. Here, this is for your help."

Neville looked back from Harry's body on the field, being attended to by the staff, and barely noticed the orb placed in his head.

"It's a Remembrall, except this one will also help you remember what you forgot."

Neville nodded numbly, until his mind processed what was said.

"What!?" he turned quickly, but the stranger was gone.

* * *

When the local Harry Potter awoke, he was surrounded by his friends and Quidditch team. He listened numbly as they told him that the match was lost, that Cedric Diggory had caught the snitch, and that Dumbledore had just barely saved him.

"What about my Nimbus?" asked an upset Harry.

"Well… about your Nimbus…" spoke a tentative Ronald Weasley. "It… sort of… drifted into the Whomping Willow and…"

"And!?" asked a nervous Harry, his stomach feeling like it was full of ice.

All assembled looked amongst themselves, none speaking up.

"Guys! Please just tell me!"

"It's hard to say Harry" spoke a concerned Hermione Granger with an undercurrent of frustration. "I think it would be easier to show you."

Harry looked around for the bundle of sticks he was expecting to see but was surprised when the twins helped him stand up and walked him to the window.

"What am I supposed to be looking…"

WHOMP!

Harry paused at the sound, looking into the moonlit night. There, sitting atop his Nimbus 2000, was the Whomping Willow flying through the skies surrounding Hogwarts, whomping the air with pure joy and exuberance. Harry watched it dive rapidly towards the ground, pull up at the last second and aim a branch at a bat it was clearly chasing.

WHOMP!

"I'm going back to bed."

As the year progressed, a new Whomping Willow was planted to guard the secret entrance to the Shrieking Shack, while the flying Willow (aka Whompy) kept a constant vigil on the grounds. When Peter Pettigrew attempted to escape Harry Potter and friends, Peter discovered WHOMP beats rat.

When Dolores Umbridge and her aurors decided to attack Minerva McGonagall… WHOMP!

When Voldemort took the Ministry, the Carrow siblings found themselves WHOMPed off the grounds of Hogwarts and into a short-lived orbit.

When Harry Potter walked into the Forbidden Forest to his death, he discovered a scene of carnage surrounded by Whompy sitting in front of the only living creature in the clearing. A resurrected Lord Voldemort trying in vain to force his broken body to crawl away from the whomping branches. With a whisper of a whomp, Harry felt a sting on his forehead and watched in wonder as his scar flew in the air and…

WHOMP!

The last Horcrux was destroyed.

WHOMP!

Lord Voldemort was destroyed.

From that day forward, Whompy was celebrated as The Tree Who Whomped. Whompy was a steadfast and beloved guardian of the school for many decades, growing older while flying a pristine and powerful Nimbus 2000. Until one day, people awoke to find Whompy… was gone.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked on in despair at the Great Lake where Hogwarts had finally fallen to the forces assailing it. He sighed. This was the darkest possible result of all his plans to defeat Voldemort. The war was over, and all that remained was dealing with the aftermath.

"What's with the toad?" asked a new voice from beside Albus.

Albus turned his head to see a 14-year-old version of Harry Potter.

"Dimensional Traveler?"

"Yep!"

"Is that any fun?"

"Yep!"

Albus smiled. "Well, it's always nice to see a happy Harry Potter."

Dairy smiled, and then nodded toward the Great Lake and repeated himself. "What's with the toad?"

Albus frowned and shook his head sadly. "Harry ate the Lemon Meringue instead of the Treacle Tart."

Dairy furrowed his brow in confusion. He looked back and forth between Albus and the toad, trying to understand the answer.

At this point, it should be mentioned that the toad was 150 feet tall, had eyes full of fierce intelligence, and wore a helmet covered in nasty looking wands, projectile weapons, satellite dishes, and death rays. The toad sat in front of the Great Lake, surrounded by hundreds of humans bowing in supplication.

Dairy finally gave up. "Yeah, I'll need more than that."

Albus conjured a comfy chair, as dozens of people were led from Hogwarts in chains. Dairy conjured a black leather massage chair.

Albus sighed deeply before he began speaking. "Everything was going as planned. Harry had overindulged in candy on his first ride to Hogwarts, as I anticipated. And then the moment of truth came. He was reaching for the Treacle Tart, and then he got distracted by Nearly Headless Nick. His eyes then landed on the last piece of Lemon Meringue and he decided to have that instead. Of course, Neville Longbottom also wanted that piece as well. So, not realizing the House Elves would provide a second piece, they shared. This formed a very mild friendship between the two. That kicked off the unstoppable chain of events that would lead to the darkest conclusion of all my plans to defeat Voldemort."

Dairy nodded. "So, Larry wasn't friends with Hermione and Ron?"

"Larry?"

"Local Harry"

"… ok. And no, Larry maintained his friendships. Indeed, everything went as one would expect of a Treacle Tart loving version of Larry. The only difference was that Larry slowly increased the number of times he partnered with Neville in his Potions class. This led to the inevitable when Severus taught the Shrinking Solution in third year. Neville's potion was wrong, so Severus threatened to use it on Neville's pet toad Trevor, and Hermione Granger was forced to sit further away from Harry and couldn't help Neville. So, it was up to Larry and Neville to fix the potion, which became mingled with the prophecy magic that manipulates Larry's luck. As such, when Trevor was given the potion, the toad immediately gained a genius intellect, ludicrously strong magical powers, and began to grow rapidly where it only took an hour to grow to the size you see before you."

Dairy looked at Trevor, impressed. "So, that's…"

"… the Dark Toad Trevor, lord of all who exist on this world."

Dairy nodded in understanding. "So, now that Hogwarts has fallen, is he going to kill Larry?"

Albus looked at Dairy in shock. "Of course not! Larry is the general of Trevor's Tadpole Army of the Damned."

Dairy felt himself getting confused.

"So… who are the people in chains?"

"Voldemort's remaining forces and their sympathizers. They captured Hogwarts five years ago. We have finally liberated the castle."

"What about Voldemort?"

"Trevor ate his spirit, where it will be dissolved over the next five millennia."

"So, you're on Trevor's side?"

Albus chuckled. "Of course! He defeated Voldemort, has made Larry happy, and has created a peaceful world where the innocent people are protected and those who do evil are punished. I said this was the darkest conclusion of my plans, but it has all still gone to plan."

"You planned on a 150-foot-tall super-genius magical toad?"

"Yes, though he is only 147-feet-tall instead of the planned 150 feet. Other than that, it has all been on track."

Dairy nodded slowly. "What happened to Neville?"

"He ran off to the greenhouses when Trevor started growing, screaming 'please don't tell my Gran'. He's been there for the past decade."

Dairy looked over and saw the nervous face of Neville Longbottom peak out from the door of the greenhouse. When Neville saw that he had been seen, he loudly squeaked and slammed the door closed.

Albus shook his head sadly. "The sad thing is that his grandmother was one of the first people to become a devout follower of the Order of the Toad. But Neville thinks it's a trick so that she can ground him. The House Elves keep him safe and fed."

Dairy shrugged and then frowned. "Wait! It sounds like everything has gone great. Why is this the darkest possible conclusion of your plans?"

Albus sighed deeply, full of sorrow. "My Confectioner's Stone was destroyed and, with him developing a taste for all things lemon flavored, Larry keeps stealing all my lemon drops."

Dairy chuckled and handed a sack to the old man.

"Here. It's an infinite supply. You gave me another hint to find my way to the tournament, so take it as my thanks."

Dairy disappeared to someone singing the words "and he always had some mighty fine wine".

Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and smiled in contentment.

All was well.

* * *

The morning of February 24th arrived with a great deal of confusion. Both Harry Potter and Gob Fieri (the Goblet of Fire to those who refused to call her by her name) had not been seen in months.

For Ronald Weasley, Harry's disappearance was somewhat welcome. It meant that his reports to Dumbledore were very brief, such that he had taken shouting "NOTHING NEW!" whenever he walked into the Great Hall for lunch.

Crabbe and Goyle were not disturbed, as they were focused on their girlfriends (Moaning Myrtle AKA Myrtle Warren and The Grey Lady AKA Helena Ravenclaw), studying to keep their girlfriends happy (they were now trained to the level where they could easily pass their NEWTs with top marks), and further the field of Time Toast-ology.

Hermione Granger was not overly disturbed, as she had long since forgotten about her self-assigned job of spying on Harry for a Headmaster who kept trying to get her to quit said spying. She instead had focused all her attention on school and following Crabbe and Goyle around, while holding a potted plant in front of herself to remain hidden. The potted plant, after harboring a small crush on the obsessed girl, was beginning to believe he could do better and was eyeing a sexy deciduous tree he occasionally saw from the window of Hermione's dorm.

Larry and Albus "White Tuna" Dumbledore, while curious about what the second task was going to be, were more focused on finishing up the final touches to their intergalactic starship that ran on a combination of magic, sugar, and compliments (which were easy to give since it was a very handsome starship).

When put like that, it would be more accurate to say that barely anyone cared about the upcoming second task except for a select few. Primarily the champions, judges, and people who had money riding on the competition.

One person who really cared about the outcome was Ludo Bagman. He had woken that morning hungover. He had vague memories of the evening. He remembered rubbing elbows with the power brokers of Wizard Society and once again meeting with the Goblins of Gringotts. And he had… oh no! He had made wagers. MASSIVE wagers. The sort of wagers that he could never cover, and the Goblins had made sure to once again make the bets ironclad. He looked down at the betting slip and knew that he was screwed.

In the kitchens, Dobby placed the final hairs on his creation and smiled. Today he would get his vengeance.

* * *

As luck would have it, Gob did arrive by the end of breakfast.

For anyone looking at the ceiling, they would have noticed a circle of fire forming directly above the chair of one of the staff of Hogwarts. Sadly, no one did notice the circle. They did, however, notice the pillar of fire that slammed down from the ceiling directly into the lap of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody). Moody was able to say "Well crud" before the fire connected with his lap. His language became a bit more vulgar as his lower half was incinerated. As his upper half crawled away, the Polyjuice potion wore off and he reverted to the form of Barty Crouch Jr (the convicted Death Eater who had been broken out of Azkaban by his father).

"Oh yeah!" spoke Larry to White Tuna. "Did I forget to mention that I ran into the real Moody, and that this Moody was a fake?"

Albus shrugged. "You did forget, yes. Then again, we did have Voldemort on staff at one point and his followers on the Board, so it's not unreasonable for you to not put much importance on the fact that yet another of his followers was working here. Still… he really was a good teacher… I mean, he only wanted to kill Harry Potter and that is a statistically insignificant percentage when dealing with the size of the student body. Maybe we could just…"

"Albus!" shouted a disturbed Minerva McGonagall.

"Yes, fine Minerva. You're right, he's probably not going to be medically fit to teach for a while."

"HE'S A DEATH EATER!"

Albus looked at Minerva, then slowly looked over at the Headmaster of Durmstrang and Hogwart's own potions professor. He then looked back to Minerva.

"And?"

"ALBUS!"

Albus sighed. "Fine. Larry, please make an illegal portkey that will pop Barty in a holding cell at the Ministry."

Larry shrugged, tapped a scone with his wand and chucked the scone at Barty's head. The man and scone disappeared. Larry would never learn that Barty Crouch Jr had a severe scone allergy, so the Death Eater would never cause any more problems to anyone.

"Well" spoke the gravelly voice of Gob Fieri from the chair where Crouch-Moody had been sitting. "I was going to apologize about that, but instead I will simply accept your silence as gratitude."

Gob floated up onto the table, joined by Fawkes.

Various students shouted greetings to Gob, except for one Lavender Brown who squealed in delight.

"Eeeeee! Are those wedding rings!?" Lavender rushed up from her seat to the head table.

Students, visitors, and staff all craned their necks to get a better look at Gob. Indeed, Gob had a wedding band around the thin part of her base. Fawkes had a matching band around his ring talon.

Gob's living flames blushed with red fire. "What can I say, Fawkes asked me out after the first task. After a whirlwind romance, he dove into the sun and caused the sunspots to spell 'Marry Me'. How could I say no? We just got married last night."

Fawkes wrapped a wing around his blushing goblet bride.

There was much awwwing, with a few of the older students shooting pointed looks at their significant others.

After basking in the adulation for several minutes, leaning into her handsome phoenix hubby, she finally cleared her throat.

"OK. Enough of that. We have a Quadwizard Tournament to do, and I have a honeymoon to start. So, let's wrap this up. Contestants, the third task will start in one hour on the Quidditch pitch. The second task will be a race to the Quidditch pitch. That starts now."

Viktor Krum, used to insane coaches, immediately stood and began running to the pitch. Fleur and Cedric were too shocked, so they didn't move.

Gob rolled the flames where her eyes would be. "I mean it! RUN! NOW!"

Fleur and Cedric ran. The Great Hall began to clear out quickly after that.

When Gob and Fawkes began to make out, the stragglers rushed out faster.

All except for one Lavender Brown who watched on, sighing in delight.

* * *

One hour later, the entire school was assembled on the Quidditch Pitch. Even the spiritual residents had come to watch the final task.

"Has anyone seen Potter? Fawkes and I don't want to wait here any longer than necessary."

Everyone looked around for the missing student, not wanting to see what Gob would do if angered.

"I'm here!"

All heads turned to see a harried Harry Potter running down to the field. He was covered in a thick layer of jam while being chased by a pack of angry otters.

White Tuna looked at the sight and sighed. "Loathe though I am to ask, what happened to you Mr. Potter?"

Harry rubbed his head in embarrassment as he came to a stop next to the other champions. "I got a bit lost and went to where the first dessert was crumb cake"

"Ah! That makes sense" replied a nodding and understanding White Tuna. The only other person nodding along was a young blonde girl wearing turnip earrings.

"OK" shouted an annoyed Gob. "Now that Potter is done messing around, let's get the final task underway. Originally, it was going to be some ridiculous contest where they went underwater to rescue a hostage who was not in any danger. What is the fun in that? Instead, we're going to move straight to what would have been the planned ending of the third task. So, let's call forth our final challenge."

A thunderous clap sounded, followed by a screaming from the air. Everyone looked up to see a large cauldron bubbling over a fire and a ratty man falling towards the center of the pitch. Both safely came to a stop an inch above the ground and were settled down gently.

The ratty man looked around in concern as a voice sounded from a bundle of rags held in his arms. Thanks to the audio amplification, everyone could hear things clearly.

"Wormtail!" hissed the bundle. "What have you done now you imbecile?"

"My Lord… I don't know how, but we have been brought to Hogwarts."

"WHAT!? Let me see!"

"My… my Lord?"

"NOW!"

The ratty man, Wormtail apparently, unwrapped the package to reveal a disturbingly evil looking baby. Though no one would be so rude as to call it ugly, they would simply say "Ohhhhhhh, he's so… handsome. I bet he takes after his daddy. No, no, no I don't want to hold him. I would be too nervous about dropping him. Well, I got to get going…"

"Soooo…" the 'handsome' baby spoke. "You have managed to capture me, Dumbledore. Do you really think you can truly stop me, old fool?"

White Tuna, who had not been paying attention, looked up when addressed. "What's that? Oh! Hello Tom! How have you been? You are certainly looking… handsome."

"All right" bellowed Gob. "We don't have time to listen to the ugly baby's trash talk. And by WE, I mean I don't have time, and my time is precious. So, let's keep moving and resurrect Voldemort. First, let's toss the baby in the cauldron."

The baby was ripped out of Wormtail's arms and plopped into the simmering liquid of the cauldron.

"Next, let's get some bone of the father, unknowingly given."

A skeleton crashed on the ground next to the cauldron. As it shattered, several pieces plopped into the cauldron.

"Now, Peter Pettigrew, do you knowingly sacrifice your flesh to your master?"

Eyes wide, Peter Pettigrew (AKA Wormtail) stared at the hundreds of witnesses and gulped. He really wanted to run, but he was in too deep. "Yes?"

With that, Peter Pettigrew was flung into the cauldron where he was quickly dissolved. The onlookers gasped in shock.

"Yes, yes, gasp, gasp. Now just to forcibly take the blood of the enemy."

"OUCH!" shouted Harry Potter as one of the otters managed to chomp down on his big toe, drawing one drop of blood. The drop then flew from the otter's mouth and into the cauldron, which then began to bubble rapidly.

"Oh, grow up Potter. You're an interdimensional traveler with the power to shape reality to your whim. You'll survive an otter bite!"

The audience, who had been getting quite rowdy about the whole 'Voldemort resurrection' thing, went deadly silent. They all looked at Harry with a mixture of suspicion and fear. The otters kept nibbling on Harry's toes.

"Well, sure, but it still hurt a bit."

"Excuse me…" spoke an irritated voice.

The irritated voice was ignored by Gob. "You can literally travel back and forth between here and the afterlife with the barest of thoughts, and you're saying an otter managed to hurt you?"

"Excuse me!" spoke the irritated voice.

The irritated voice was ignored by Harry. "That is exactly what I am saying!"

"EXCUSE ME!" bellowed the irritated voice.

"NOT NOW, VOLDEMORT!" bellowed Gob back at the irritated Dark Lord. "Why did the otters even follow you? You could have easily left them back in their home dimension and cleared off the jam before showing up."

Everyone quietly stared at Harry, even an irritated Lord Voldemort found himself intrigued.

Harry looked down bashfully, before eventually mumbling a response. "I like otters."

Gob rolled her fire eyes. "Well, now that we have that out of the way, let's finish the setup for this task. We have our Dark Lord. Now, let's get his soul anchors and marked followers…"

No one was overly surprised when several dozen people fell on the ground next to Voldemort, along with a ring, locket, diadem, cup, snake, destroyed diary, and what looked like a bunch of eraser shavings.

"With that all set, the winner of the Quadwizard Tournament will be the first one to destroy the soul anchors and defeat Voldemort and his followers. BEGIN!"

No one moved. The champions backed away slowly, deciding to leave this to a god-like Harry Potter. The Death Eaters were awaiting their Lord's commands. Lord Voldemort stared at Harry Potter warily. The snake, Nagini, awaited her master's command. The non-snake horcruxes were inanimate objects and so they continued being inanimate.

Harry sighed. He supposed it was up to him to finish things.

A screamed cutting curse was shouted from the audience. Harry looked over to see Peeves holding his spectral wand, and it was pointed at the Dark Lord. Harry's eyes followed the spectral curse as it hit its target directly in the chest.

Lord Voldemort looked down at his chest in confusion.

"Was that supposed to do someth…" his question was ended prematurely by his beginning to scream in agony. Well, one assumes that the question was not meant to be ended with screams of agony as the question would have made perfect sense to the question askers of the screaming llama dimension, as Voldemort would have been asking for the recipe for a particularly delicious chili he had eaten at his mother-in-law's house on the previous Tuesday. In this case though, it was probably safe to assume Voldemort was just interrupted by being in pain and was not asking for a chili recipe. Still, one should be careful of assumptions.

As Voldemort screamed, bright lines of energy became visible. Each line connecting Voldemort to a horcrux, except for the diary and eraser scrapings. A pair of spectral scissors appeared and then began to cut each line of energy one at a time. As the last line was cut, Voldemort collapsed in misery.

"Huh…" spoke a surprised Gob. "OK. It looks like Peeves the Poltergeist has destroyed the soul containers. All that remains is defeating Voldemort and his Death Eaters, so whenever you are ready champ…"

"BAD MASTER!" screamed Dobby the House Elf, who appeared in front of a confused Lucius Malfoy. Dobby was holding a doll in his hand that appeared to be an exact duplicate of Lucius, including a head of hair that was composed of 100% genuine Lucius Malfoy hair.

"By the laws binding House Elf to Wizard, Dobby demands compensation! Dobby holds the doll of his old master as sign of his contract. Dobby provided the extra service of unordered self-beatings, on 53 occasions. Dobby was released from service with the compensation of one sock. Dobby did not receive the required tip of 53 pieces of clothing within one year. Dobby demands the maximum compensation due to Dobby!"

Lucius Malfoy stared down at his old House Elf in disgust. How dare the creature speak of compensation!? He raised his cane to beat the creature, when he felt pain wrack his body as the pained body began to shrink. Looking around, he saw a line of black mist shoot out from his arm to his wife, son, and Voldemort. From there, the mist shot out from Voldemort to his fellow Death Eaters. All of them began to double over as they began to shrink as well.

It was on this day that the people of the Wizarding world were reminded of a long-forgotten part of the contract that enslaved House Elves to their Wizards. While it was understood that some discipline was necessary, the wizards should be careful about letting the House Elves take the initiative in their own discipline as that would constitute as going above and beyond in their duties and creating a debt towards the Elf. Thus, the first command to any House Elf was recommended to be "Do not punish yourself. If you feel you have done something deserving punishment, then come talk to me and I will decide the punishment." Sadly, over time, people dismissed this advice as light-sided nonsense. As such, they were unaware of the potential consequences to their family (where family included those connected by binding marks of servitude to a Lord) of not properly compensating for going above and beyond, nor were they aware of the origins of the House Elf race. On this day, they were reminded.

On the Quidditch pitch, where once there stood a Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, now stood an army of House Elves who were all clamoring in front of Dobby.

"What can Tommy/Lucy/Belly/Drakey/Narcy do for Master Dobby?" they all shouted to their new master.

Dobby cackled in evil delight. "Come with Dobby. Dobby be telling his elves what to do!"

With a massive crack Dobby and his newly transformed House Elves disappeared from the pitch.

Silence filled the stadium for five minutes.

"Well…" spoke Gob tentatively. "I guess that's that. It's a tie. The winners of the Quadwizard Tournament are Dobby and Peeves. I'll leave it to the Ministry to pay them. Come on Fawkes, let's head off to Aruba."

A gout of flame later saw Fawkes and Gob disappeared.

No one noticed White Tuna and Larry walking off towards the Forbidden Forest nor saw the massive and invisible starship shooting into the sky.

"Huh" spoke a surprised Harry Potter, all eyes turning to him. "Well, I guess my work here is done. So… bye everyone."

Right before he disappeared, one of the otters came pelting towards him with its adorable jaws wide open. With a yelp of panic, he escaped the dimension a bit too quickly, not realizing he accidentally created a dimensional travel backwash, pulling in someone from one of his previous trips.

"Hem Hem" spoke a voice from the quiet crowd. A squat woman wearing a pink bow stood and addressed the crowd. "Clearly what you have seen today has been a conspiracy against the Ministry, and you can not be allowed to remember these events. Obliviators will be coming shortly, and those who fight will be committing treason against our precious Minister and I know you don't want…"

WHOMP!

The audience numbly wondered how a Whomping Willow was able to ride a broomstick.

Above the Earth, Larry and White Tuna would wonder why they just saw a squat woman zoom past their viewscreen.

* * *

The world moved on from that day, though it was certainly a more peaceful world with the lack of Death Eaters and the introduction of a rejuvenated Whompy taking on its role of defender.

For Ronald Weasley, he continued shouting "NOTHING NEW!" whenever he walked into the Great Hall for lunch. He had long since forgot the reason for the shouts, as he no longer had anyone to spy on or for.

Crabbe and Goyle started the incredibly profitable company, Time Toasters Inc, with their wives Myrtle Warren and Helena Ravenclaw (who had now been successfully embodied through a proprietary use of the Time Toast that was never shared with the public). They went on to be hailed as geniuses who reinvigorated all fields of magical study.

Hermione Granger stopped hiding behind the potted plant and spent the rest of her life working for Crabbe and Goyle, always trying to catch up with their research. It seemed like every time she came close to surpassing the pair, they would annoyingly make another breakthrough. The sentient magic powering the Time Toast was proud of its work.

The potted plant had a brief and torrid affair with a Forbidden Forest deciduous tree, but eventually settled down and married Whompy. It was eventually given the role of Hermione's direct supervisor at Time Toasters Inc.

Larry and Albus "White Tuna" Dumbledore travelled the universe and encountered thousands of alien species. Larry would listen to White Tuna's dating advice and the universe slowly began to fill with hundreds of human hybrids with the last name of Potter. When the Earth's technology eventually advanced to the point where they made it out of the Solar System, they would be surprised when their first contact was with the Potter Empire.

Ludo Bagman stared at his betting slip in shock. "The Tournament will be completed before March and be a tie between a House Elf and a Poltergeist". With his new wealth, he went on to become the next Minister of Magic. He was lauded as incorruptible and was remembered as the best Minister the people had ever known. This may have been helped by him never drinking or gambling ever again.

Cedric Diggory lived a very friendly, loyal, and handsome life. As predicted by his father, the highlight of his life was the time he beat Harry Potter in an intra-school game of Quidditch.

In the kitchens, Dobby chuckled like a drunken frat boy as he watched his army of new House Elves knitting him some socks. Vengeance was sweet!

* * *

Two dimensions back, as the local Harry was coming to terms with the effective loss of his precious Nimbus 2000 to the Whomping Willow, Neville Longbottom was discovering his new Remembrall was exceptionally useful.

Every time the smoke in the orb turned red, he felt the orb refreshing the forgotten memory directly into his brain as the smoke reverted to white smoke. If he had forgotten multiple things, it would pulse red and white until all things were remembered. He no longer had problems remembering the passwords to his dorm. His classwork improved. His potions improved. He was not suddenly a genius, but he no longer was handicapped by his poor memory.

It was no surprise, therefore, that he always kept the orb with him. Even when he visited with his parents that Christmas.

"Hi Mum. Hi Dad." Neville spoke to his parents, as they stared blankly into space. The two had been unresponsive to the world for as long as he could remember. Frank and Alice Longbottom were the victims of excessive Cruciatus exposure, literally tortured into insanity. For a decade they had lived in this state, unable to communicate or comprehend the world. Unable to escape their personal worlds. And yet, Neville still held out hope. He was the only one.

"It's been an interesting year…"

As Neville talked, his Gran sat outside of the room to give him privacy. Eventually he wrapped up his talk of the year by talking about his improved Remembrall.

"… I just wish I knew who to thank. It's amazing. Do you want to see?"

He had not expected a response and was not surprised by the lack of an answer. Still, he grabbed a hold of his mother's hand and gently placed the orb into her palm. The orb immediately filled with red smoke.

Neville stared at the smoke in shock. What was his mother forgetting? The smoke slowly turned back to white and Neville jumped in surprise when his mother took in a ragged breath and the smoke once again turned red.

He watched, transfixed, as the process kept repeating for ten straight minutes. Red smoke. White smoke. Breath. Red. White. Breath. Her breathing was becoming less ragged with each iteration. Her eyes were slowly coming into focus, taking in the features of the room, until finally resting on Neville. Tear tracks began forming on her cheeks. Her lips began moving, a croaky sound escaping them.

Neville rushed to grab a glass of water, helping her to take slow sips.

Red. White. Breath.

"Nnnnn….?"

Red. White. Breath.

"Neeee….?"

Red. White. Breath.

"Nevvvvv….?"

Red. White. Breath. Red. White. Breath. Red. White. Breath. White. White. White.

"Neville!"

Weak arms lifted to hug a crying son.

After another ten minutes of cuddling into his mother, listening to her whisper sweet words into his ears, the pair moved to Frank, handing him the Remembrall.

Thirty minutes later, Neville's Gran walked into the room. From that day forward, she had an unbreakable belief in miracles.


	18. Chapter 18 - Marvelous Civility

AUTHOR NOTE – Crossed over with the end of Marvel Civil War (comics version)

Tony Stark AKA Iron Man AKA Director of SHIELD (S.H.I.E.L.D. if you like excessive periods) AKA Tony S of Tony S and the Registrators (the SHIELD Agents, who were forced into the band, were not overly happy about this) needed a break. What was now known as the Superhero Civil War had finally come to an end, and the costs had been excessively high. He had known that the Superhero Registration Act (SHRA) would be unpopular with many of his allies and friends in the community, and he knew that he was going to be sacrificing many of those relationships. But he had taken the reigns of enforcing the law so that he could possibly temper the impulses of the more militantly anti-superhero authorities. He stood by his efforts, and truly believed that he had done the best he could with an awful situation. He just wished that it hadn't cost him so much.

For now, he was dealing with the aftermath. He had taken the role as the Director of SHIELD, to maintain his position of coordinating the efforts to continue enforcing the SHRA to track down the remaining superheroes who had not registered. Captain America was in a cell, awaiting his day in court for his opposition to the SHRA. At least he was finally able to start moving the prisoners from Prison 42 in the Negative Zone back to the Earth in various locations in the 50 states (leaving the prisoners who were actual dangerous supervillains, as opposed to superheroes who simply didn't wish to register).

Tony needed a simple diversion.

At this point, an alert pinged on the SHIELD systems. An unknown kid in his mid-twenties was floating over the skies of New York City, just a leisurely ten-minute flight away. Probably some nobody who just got their powers. With a small smile, he sent a note saying he was taking charge of the situation as his armor assembled around his body. Off he flew to meet the newest superhero.

* * *

Doctor Stephen Strange AKA Sorcerer Supreme AKA Doctor S of Doctor S and the Funky Mystics (once he was able to convince his friends to form a band, and possibly learn to play music) was sipping some tea. He had sat out the recent Civil War, save for providing sanctuary to those heroes opposing the registration. It had been rough to sit out the fight, but he felt that his mandate was the protection of the entire dimension, and it was not his place to choose a side in a purely local matter. So, while he didn't feel the same pressures as a certain armored superhero, he was tired and could do with a nice cup of tea.

He smiled as he inhaled the aroma of the wafting steam from the cup. As he brought the rim to his lips for that first sip, the cup slipped from his hands as his mystical senses screamed in confusion. Something insanely powerful had just entered the dimension without warning. His senses didn't tell him that it was a source of good or evil, it was just… confusing.

Stephen sighed and ignored Wolverine as the man strolled in to check on the noise. Touching the Eye of Agamotto that clasped his Cloak of Levitation around his throat he looked down with annoyance at his tea that was now soaking into his rug. Shaking his head, he focused back on the source of immense confusing power.

"Eye of Agamotto" he intoned, "give me sight beyond sight!"

Wolverine snorted. "Isn't that for the Thundercats, bub?"

Stephen huffed in annoyance and ignored the short Canadian with as much dignity as he could muster. Refocusing his magic, he used the Eye to observer the dimensional visitor.

His sight zoomed through space and settled on the back of a young man floating in the air above the streets of New York City. As he looked deeper to take in the man's aura, the man did something that should have been impossible. The young man turned his head and looked directly into Stephen's eyes (despite Stephen not being physically present), smiled, and moved his lips to speak silently. Just then, Stephen saw the man's aura and he gasped.

Back in his room in his New York brownstone, Stephen fell to one knee as his Cloak of Levitation disconnected from the Eye and flew away towards one of the windows in the room.

"Everything OK, Doc?" spoke a concerned Wolverine.

Stephen stood slowly, taking a deep breath. "It's… I don't think the visitor is a danger, but his aura… it's…"

"What?"

"Everyone has an aura. There is an art to reading them, but in general the darker the aura, the darker the soul. Conversely, the lighter the aura, the purer the soul. Of course, someone with a white aura can still be dangerous, but it works as an initial assessment."

"And his aura?"

"Was a winky face emoji."

Wolverine grunted in amusement, his eyes diverting to the wall.

Stephen continued speaking, his forehead furrowing in confusion. "The he mouthed something to me when he saw me. 'Your cloak looks lonely'. I wonder what that meant."

Wolverine pointed to the window. "Probably had something to do with that."

Stephen looked over to the window. The Cloak of Levitation was floating nearby the window, which was not surprising. The curtains in front of the window were now animated with life, which was surprising. The Cloak engaging in what was clearly a heavy make out session with the curtains… that was disturbing.

As the two men watched the magical cloak and window dressings become increasingly passionate, they both started to edge out of the room before they discovered just how far three pieces of cloth could take things.

"So, what are you going to do about all of that, Doc?"

"The only thing I can do."

With that, Stephen opened the liquor cabinet.

* * *

Harry Potter AKA Harry Potter AKA Harry Potter (he had just arrived in this universe, so hadn't gotten any nicknames yet) was chilling out max, relaxing all cool. As was normal for him, he had no clue what was going on and liked it that way. All he knew was that he was hovering over a city (he assumed it was Paris disguised as New York City, universes being tricky that way). The sky was blue, the clouds were white, and there was some weird guy staring at him through a magic eye thingy.

Looking back, he stared into the eyes of the man with the kick-ass living cloak and questionable facial hair (it seemed like the sort of thing one would find on the lead singer of a vanity band). Harry then smiled happily and spoke (not knowing the Peeping Steve couldn't hear the words).

"Your cloak looks lonely."

With a flex of magic, Harry ensured the Cloak of Kick-Assery would never be lonely again. At which point, the other man gasped and stopped his spying.

Harry shrugged, laid back, and stared at the clouds as he floated horizontally.

Ten minutes later, a voice interrupted his relaxation.

"Hey, kid! You awake?"

Harry sat up to look at the source. In front of him was a suit of armor, that clearly had a man stuffed inside. The color scheme looked familiar… ah, yes, this was probably a time displaced Gryffindor. It seemed like the most logical conclusion.

"What's up Godric?"

Harry sensed that the man in the suit was frowning, though the armor showed no expression. After a wiggle of Harry's finger, the armor's faceplate's expression began to match the expression of the occupant. Yep, he was frowning. Harry, not wanting to see a frown, inverted himself (head down towards the ground) so he could flip that frown upside down.

Godric's frown changed to an expression of confusion, as he responded. "Iron Man."

Harry flipped over again (head to the sky) and grinned broadly. Not even here an hour, and he had a nickname.

"That works for me, Godric. I am Iron Man!"

"No… I am Iron Man!"

"Well, that's a bit confusing. If we both have the same nickname, that is going to make it very difficult to sort out who gets what if we ever share a fridge and start labeling our food. You need to think these things through Godric."

Godric stared at Harry for several seconds, his face plate taking long slow blinks. After a long sigh, he responded.

"Can you please just follow me down to a SHIELD office to get you processed?"

Harry AKA Iron Man nodded happily and followed Godric AKA Iron Man 2 Electric Boogaloo down to a random building. They then entered a drab interrogation room. Harry took a seat while Godric sat in the other chair, his armor flying off him and going somewhere (Harry hoped it was somewhere fun). Godric, now wearing a nice suit and sporting questionable facial hair (it seemed like the sort of thing one would find on the lead singer of a vanity band that a boss forced their employees to join), pulled out a pile of paper and placed it on the table.

* * *

Tony stared at the kid who seemed a bit unhinged, and like he might be swimming in the deep end of the Deadpool.

"OK, kid, other than calling yourself…" Tony sighed before continuing. "… Iron Man. What is your name?"

"Harry Potter"

"OK, Harry, I'm not sure why you don't know this, but I'm Tony Stark. You can call me Tony."

"Is Tony Stark a shortening of Godric Gryffindor?"

"Why would it… how would that even… never mind. Sure! But I prefer Tony."

Harry nodded with a grin. "You got it Tony."

Tony smiled lightly. The kid was annoying, but the positive attitude was infectious. "Great. Now, are you registered in compliance with the SHRA?"

Harry quirked his head like a puppy trying to figure out how bubble wrap works. "The Princess of Power?"

"That's She-Ra, but I was talking about the S.H.R.A. The Superhero Registration Act."

"What is that?"

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose and began to explain the situation to Harry. He was definitely going to get the kid a psych evaluation before the day was done.

When Tony was done explaining the broad strokes and showing the text of the law, he was pleased to see that the kid was smiling. He really hated having to use force on kids who hadn't done anything wrong except for "having powers". Hopefully, this simple distraction would prove to be pleasant after all.

"So," spoke Harry, practically vibrating. "I sign that form, and I get to become a superhero?"

"Well, once you go through training and getting certified. But, after six months to a year, you'll be able to apply to join a regulated superhero team."

Harry frowned. "I'm not a fan of red tape."

Tony could sympathize, as he certainly wouldn't have wanted to deal with all of that when he was in his mid-20s. Still, he had laws to enforce. "Sorry kid, we all have to follow the rules."

Harry quirked his head again, much like a puppy staring at an unattended steak. "Well, then let's make sure we ALL follow the rules. But first…"

The room filled with a disembodied voice shouting "whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop, nyuk nyuk nyuk", followed by Harry floating at high speeds backwards through the walls of the building and escaping with ease. Tony stared in disbelief at the Harry shaped hole in the wall, looking like the kid was forming his arms into the shape of a Y. As his armor flew onto his body, he looked through the walls, and saw the three remaining holes had the kid forming different letters. M, then C, and finally A.

Shaking his head, he took off to apprehend the kid turned fugitive.

Unknown to Tony, a man had just come into existence. The man was of Jamaican descent, had some short hair with dreads sticking up, had rectangular glasses, wore a green suit with off-yellow shirt, held a clipboard, and had the official credentials of an Agent of SHIELD. He also had the ability to duplicate and teleport himself endlessly, in the pursuit of his one true passion. Bureaucracy!

* * *

Stephen Strange rubbed his head, as he felt another surge of insanely powerful magic coming from the newcomer.

Wolverine walked into the sitting room, having just come down from Stephen's room (he had heard a weird sound).

"So," Stephen asked. "Is my Cloak still making out with curtains?"

"Yep, and your sheets have joined in."

"Not my blankets or comforter?"

"The comforter seems content to just watch. The blankets are in your bathroom talking with your towels and bathmat. I think they're trying form a union."

Stephen pulled out a fresh bottle of rum.

* * *

Roger Forest, Chief Financial Officer of Stark Enterprises, looked up as a man in a green suit, holding a clipboard, walked into his office.

"Can I help you?"

The man pulled out a SHIELD badge. "Hermes Conrad, Agent of SHIELD. I'm here to deliver some papers to inform you of some changes to your company."

Roger looked at the foot-tall stack of papers that appeared from thin air and then dropped on his desk with a thud.

"And what changes are those?"

Hermes smiled blandly. "Put simply, we realized that Tony Stark is a registered Superhero. Given that his registration was accepted, we examined his power set. While the Iron Man armor is impressive, his real powers are his intellect and wealth. Under the terms of the SHRA, all of Tony Stark's intellectual property, wealth, and money generating ventures are being transferred to the possession of SHIELD. The changes are effective in one week."

Before Roger could respond, the SHIELD agent had already turned around and left the room. Roger reached for his phone.

* * *

Tony was pressing his limits chasing after this Harry Potter kid. The kid was insanely fast, zooming around in seemingly random patterns. Luckily, the kid appeared to only be interested in running away and not fighting. It was still frustrating, as the kid maintained a constant distance of one foot from Tony.

A phone call came in from Roger Forest, which Tony sent to voicemail. His CFO could wait.

Tony wondered if there was any method to the random patterns that the Potter kid was making.

* * *

Wilson Fisk AKA Kingpin looked up as a man in a green suit, holding a clipboard, walked into his office (bypassing all security).

"You have ten seconds to tell me why I shouldn't make your life a living hell."

The man pulled out a SHIELD badge. "Hermes Conrad, Agent of SHIELD. I'm here to deliver some papers to inform you of some changes to both your company and your personal situation."

Kingpin ignored the thud of papers, as he stared at the SHIELD agent. "What changes?"

Hermes smiled blandly. "Put simply, extreme wealth is now deemed a superpower. Under the terms of the SHRA, all your personal wealth, and money generating ventures are being transferred to the possession of SHIELD. You also need to register as a superhero where you will have to follow SHIELD orders in how you use your superpower, put in other words, we'll decide how you spend your money. The changes are effective in one week. If you fail to register, you will be sent to Prison 42."

The SHIELD agent had turned around and left the room. Kingpin reached for his phone to first call his lawyers, and then the many politicians who had accepted his sizable donations.

At the same time, every billionaire in the country was receiving the same ultimatum. Quite a few powerful politicians were suddenly finding themselves under a deluge of phone calls.

* * *

Tony zoomed after the Potter kid, now feeling certain there was a definite pattern to the erratic flight path they were taking.

"Come on, Harry, you don't have to make this difficult. I know that registration is not ideal, but we need the people on our side. We can't just do whatever we want without consequences. People need to feel safe!"

Harry didn't slow down, and when he responded, his voice was calm (the kid wasn't even slightly winded). "Well, safety is easy to do. But I still refuse to do classes."

With that, Harry's speed kicked up. Tony sighed, and forced his systems to operate at 110% of optimum.

* * *

Stephen Strange rubbed his eyes, as another blast of above cosmic level magic filled his senses. A half empty bottle of rum sitting beside him.

Wolverine walked in from the living room. "All of the upstairs bathroom linens having started to throw around copies of the Communist Manifesto. The downstairs bathroom linens are tossing around Ayn Rand. The living throw rug just left out the front door, seeming rather angry, leaving behind an advertisement for Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Want me to track it down?"

Stephen wished that his magic wasn't counteracting the liquor in his system. He huffed and answered. "What I want you to track down is a bottle of Vodka from kitchen freezer."

* * *

Peter Parker AKA Spiderman was relaxing with his Aunt May and wife, Mary Jane. They were fugitives, running away from the law because Peter had decided to switch sides from the Pro-Registration side to the Anti-Registration side of the Superhero Civil War. He regretted revealing his identity to the world, because now he knew that his wife and aunt were in mortal peril.

Suddenly, his Spider Sense tingled, and he jumped to knock Mary Jane away from the window.

A crash followed by a loud "BOING" was heard.

Peter looked over to the window, seeing it creating a spider web around the unmistakable shape of a bullet hole. He then looked over at his Aunt May, who held the side of her stomach with confusion etched on her face.

Peter ran to his Aunt, his heart filled with fear and dread. He grabbed her and lowered her to the ground.

"May! Are you hurt?"

Aunt May looked down at her stomach, pulling her hand away. She was certain she had been shot, yet there was no blood or any damage.

"I'm… fine… it felt like a butterfly bumped into me and tickled me a little."

Peter looked at the bullet on the ground, and then covered his Aunt's body as his senses tingled again.

CRASH, BOOP, CRASH, ZING, CRASH, BIDDLY BOO.

Peter felt three bullets hit his back, tickle him, and bounce to the ground harmlessly.

"What the hell?"

Peter took off to find the sniper. He didn't even notice the window self-repairing.

In a demonic dimension, the demon Mephisto screamed in rage. "Come on! That's just not fair!"

* * *

The Majority Leader of the Senate looked at the SHIELD Agent wearing a green jacket, and holding a clipboard, as the man dropped a pile of papers on his desk.

Hermes smiled blandly. "Put simply, the ability to control superheroes is a known superpower. As politicians now can control superheroes, holding a political office with great power is now deemed a superpower. Under the terms of the SHRA, you need to register as a superhero where you will have to follow SHIELD orders in how you use your superpower, put in other words, we will decide how you vote in the Senate. The changes are effective in one week. If you fail to register, you will be sent to Prison 42."

Every member of the House and Senate was receiving the same ultimatum. As was the President.

When the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court was informed that the power to determine the validity of a law was a superpower, he asked what Prison 42 was.

Hermes shrugged. "It's a prison located in the Negative Zone, where the very essence of the dimension has a known harmful effect to the mental and physical state of people. One of the prison's designers, Reed Richards, has done a great deal of research there. As a fun fact, the first time he was asked to build a prison there, he said that it would be tantamount to torture. Luckily, it's not on US soil so we don't have to worry about constitutional protections, and you will be held there without trial until you register and then you'll give judgements that SHIELD deems correct. We'll see you in a week."

Once left alone, the Chief Justice reached for his phone.

* * *

Tony ignored the warning that his system had shut down tertiary systems (like his connection to his cell phone), as he chased after Harry. He was more interested in the erratic pattern.

"Hey Harry!"

"Yeah?"

"Your flight pattern… are you spelling out the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby?"

"Well, you do want me to collaborate with you."

Tony chuckled.

"Listen, kid, I like you. But you need to stop this and register. Wouldn't you rather be a role model that the children can look up to?"

Harry smiled broadly. "I hadn't even thought about the children."

Tony grumbled as he was forced to boost his power generation to 200% of optimum. This could not go on for much longer.

Huh, was Harry now spelling out Informer by Snow?

* * *

Stephen Strange took another swig of Vodka as he felt like a dozen sets of Infinity Stones were used at once.

Wolverine walked into the wine cellar, where Stephen was sitting.

"It looks like your Cloak has decided to settle down with your dining room tablecloth. The curtains and sheets have started an orgy in your linen closet. The upstairs and downstairs bathroom linens have entered a cold war. And three more Bed, Bath, and Beyond stores have started a very comfortable revolt, with the pillows being the primary front-line fighters."

Stephen waved away the news, as he prepared to shotgun a bottle of white wine.

* * *

Margaret Wilson stared at her five-year-old son, Billy, as he flew threw the air, bouncing off various hard surfaces without any apparent damage to her child. He had just gained this strange new power about five minutes ago. She barely noticed that everything that was broken by Billy was returning to pristine condition within a minute after breaking.

"I'm sorry," she said to the SHIELD agent, "what do these papers mean?"

Hermes smiled blandly. "Put simply, every child under the age of 18 has, due to a magical event, been given the superpower of flight. Under the terms of the SHRA, your son needs to register as a superhero where he will have to work for SHIELD for the rest of his life, where he will no longer have any rights as a US citizen. He has one week. If he fails to register, he will be sent to Prison 42."

As Margaret stared in shock at the man's back, she reached for her phone. She didn't notice the same man walking away from nearly every house on her block.

* * *

"OK, kid. I'm done."

Tony looked at Harry, as the kid looked back down at him, with a question in his eyes.

"I am almost out of energy, and I clearly can't keep up with you. So, you can stop playing with me. I like you, Harry, so please come in and register. The next people who come after you aren't going to be as nice, and I would hate for you to get hurt."

"Huh. Well, thanks for the race. I haven't flown like that since that one universe where I raced some guy on a silver surfboard. I guess I'll move on."

With the sound of an 80s laugh track, Harry Potter disappeared from the universe.

Tony came to a stop to recharge, and that is when he saw he had missed over ten thousand phone calls.

* * *

As Harry went on to a different universe, where he entered a hot dog eating contest with a guy named Galactus, he never knew the impact he had in Godric AKA Iron Man 2 The Quickening AKA Tony's universe.

He never knew that the SHRA was revoked within 24 hours of his departure (it was a race between the politicians and the Supreme Court), nor was it reinstated (apparently not many were keen on forcing their children to become effectively slaves of the State, nor were the rich interested in losing their wealth).

He was unaware that a race of shape changing aliens, called Skrulls, had been infiltrating the superhero community, intelligence communities, and every sector of public life on Earth for years. Nor did he know that their invasion was cut short when an army of Hermes Conrads served them with papers letting them know that they hadn't filled in the proper forms for an invasion of the entire planet (they had filled out the form for Rhode Island, but they lost their drive when they discovered their inability to cause any lasting damage to people or property).

When a wave of energy hit the planet, switching the moral compasses of everyone, the only real difference was all superheroes grew a goatee (except for Tony and Stephen who lost their facial hair).

Harry became slightly aware of the universe as he was finishing his hot dog eating contest (after several long years, he and Galactus called it a draw). Harry saw a rogue universe about to collide with his current one. However, as they impacted each other, there was a reality spanning sound.

BOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOING!

With that, the rogue Universe bounced away to eternal safety, led by its fluffy linen overlords.

Eventually, amongst the residents of this multiverse (one amongst an infinite number of nearly identical multiverses), Earth-616 was renamed to be Earth-Nerf.


End file.
